Chapter 35 From Bad to Worse

"It not only can get worse, it probably already has by the time you get there." -Hunter's Rule 20

"Okay," said Bonaire over the radio. "Here's the plan. If they bounce us in the open, we're screwed- they've got the altitude and positioning advantage. Stay near the city- when they start to get locks on you, run for cover in the skyscrapers."

"Wow," said Nick. "That's incredibly dangerous."

"We're really well into the territory of 'lesser of two evils" here, Hustler. Just remember to fly around the buildings, not through them."

"Noted. Around, not through."

"I hate flying," muttered Judy.

"When I give the signal, break cover and head for the Deadlands, if you still think that's a good idea."

Nick was already adjusting his course, in a gentle curve towards Zootopia's downtown area. "What's the signal?"

"Probably something along the lines of 'oh, shit'," said Bonaire dryly. "The way things are going."

The enemy fighters continued to bore in on the trio of strike craft. Bonaire and her wingman both boosted higher, then swung around to meet them head-to-head. Nick applied his own engine boost, kicking him and Judy back into their seats. Judy let out a groan and closed her eyes. She quickly opened them again as that just made her feel queasier. "I really, really hate flying," she said again.

Nick eyed the buildings they were flying towards and mentally mapped out a path through them. He considered the twists and turns they were about to make. "Not as much as you're about to," he said.

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Bogo marched into the station's lock-up, La Mancha following curiously behind him. Krieger was back in the lobby of the station, setting up a miniature command post as Marines continued to land across the city.

The chief stepped into the holding area and gestured at the cells. "There!" he announced. "They can be made prisoner."

La Mancha blinked as he took in the surprised faces of the Drex praetorians who had been disarmed and captured in their initial attempt to take over the Zootopian Police headquarters. He stepped closer to one, studying him intently. "Remarkable," he murmured.

The Drex eyed him arrogantly before transferring his gaze to Bogo. "Couldn't bear to do your own dirty work, mammal?" he said. "Had to bring in the humans to finish the job?" He raised his chin defiantly. "I have no fear, human. I will show you how a Drex dies."

"In my experience," said La Mancha, "They die much like everyone else. Messily and with lots of screaming." He shook his head. "How is it that you were captured?"

The Drex hesitated. "There was no point in continued resistance," he said. "Besides, we will soon be liberated by our forces."

"Maybe before," said La Mancha. "But the Marines have landed now. Your forces are scattered and disorganized. Your fleet in orbit is so much dust, so you have no orbital support." He regarded the Drex thoughtfully. "Tell me, Drex. Just what were you trying to accomplish? Your invasion pattern makes no sense- the only clear targets you've had are the more powerful transmitters on the planet."

The Drex looked away and remained silent.

"Sir?" Krieger poked his head in the room. "Sir, we've got a problem."

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Gneumann had led his flock across a fair amount of the city by now, and after destroying that one small group of Drex had yet to meet another of the hated foe. It hadn't occurred to him that martyrdom would be so hard. He had sort of assumed that the Drex devils would come to him, not that he'd actually have to seek them out.

A fair few of his congregation had quietly disappeared. He had expected as much, though he still felt a pang of sorrow and contempt for those who would desert at the very hour of triumph. Their faith was weak.

The rodents that had helped him defeat the first Drex contingent were gone as well. He was less sure about where they would stand in the hour of judgment. Sure, they had been of great assistance, but they had not stayed the course- it seemed wrong to lump them in with the mammals who did nothing or even assisted the Drex, but still-

Gneumann was on the verge of inventing the concept of Purgatory when gunfire erupted to his front, interrupting his theological musings. "Everyone down!" he shouted.

In short order, those who had survived the first contact with the new Drex contingent were pinned down once again. The only reason they were still alive was that the Drex had blundered into them, rather than setting up a true ambush or meeting engagement. They'd even managed to inflict a few casualties on the Drex, their human weaponry more than equal to defeating the Drex armor.

Gneumann managed to make it to the dubious cover of a small ice cream store, huddling with some other holy warriors behind the counter. One was covered in raspberry ice cream, courtesy of a bullet that had exploded the container above him. It occurred to Gneumann that holy war was not always as glorious as it should have been.

"What do we do now?" asked his ice-creamed congregant. "I'm freezing," he added.

A coyote poked his head above the counter, and pulled it down instantly as a shower of bullets nearly took it off. "I think they've seen us."

There was a sudden roar, then a bang, then a series of explosions that rocked the store. The concussion threw the remaining vats of ice cream on top of the surprised mammals.

After that, there was a sudden silence, broken only by the screams of the wounded, and then-

"Oo-rah!"

Gneumann, wiping pistachio ice cream from the fur around his muzzle and eyes, looked up to see a Drex soldier firing at an unseen foe around the street corner. The Drex was hit and fell, scrabbled to get up, was hit again and was still.

"The angels have come," he breathed. "The angels of the gods have come!" he repeated, more loudly.

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Corporal Kamau was a remarkably quiet, unambitious man, particularly for a Human Stars Marine. He wanted to do his tour, go home, and help his family run the small furniture business they'd run for generations. He didn't hate the Drex, though he wouldn't lose any sleep over killing them either. He just wanted to get this latest job done so he'd be one step closer to finishing his mandatory term of service.

The last of the Drex were dead or had retreated from the landing zone. Already, his company was spreading out, securing the buildings around them. With the fighting almost done, some of the Zootopians were coming out. Kamau blinked as a baby elephant shyly waved at him from a nearby building. Hesitantly, he waved back.

Perhaps that was why Gneumann chose Kamau to approach. The wildebeest, wielding all the dignity he could muster while covered in a mixture of pistachio and banana-flavored ice cream, stepped out to greet the human Marine.

"Greetings, oh angel of the gods. We, the true followers of your divine ways, have come to serve you." With that, he dropped to one knee, followed by the few remaining of his congregation behind him.

Kamau stared at the gnu, then broadened his gaze to take in the other mammals. He glanced over his shoulder.

"Sergeant?"

Sergeant Exley glanced at him, did a double-take when he saw the kneeling mammals, and jogged over. "What's going on, Kamau?" He frowned at the ice cream-covered mammals. "Okay," he said, almost to himself. "I knew we had to expect some bizarre customs, but covering themselves in ice cream?"

"It takes all kinds," said Kamau doubtfully.

"We are your loyal servants," said Gneumann hastily. "Come to offer our services in liberating our planet from the Drex demons."

"Okay," said Exley slowly. "So, local resistance fighters. We have a policy for that. Do you know who we are?"

"Angels of the gods," said Gneumann firmly.

Kamau and Exley exchanged a look. "That's a no," said Exley. "No one who thinks Marines are angels could possibly know anything about us." He reached a decision. "Kamau, disarm these civilians and take them into custody. They'll be safer that way."

"But-" began Gneumann. He stopped as a few other Marines who had come their way raised their weapons. "We serve the true gods, the humans!" he protested, somewhat weakly.

"Never been called a god before," said Kamau musingly as he took Gneumann's weapon from his unresisting paws. "But sarge is right. If you think we're gods, you're nuts." He glanced at a tiger who had been under the toppings tray when it was hit with an explosive round. "Or covered in nuts, as the case may be."

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"Yes, sir," said Oakes, keeping his voice measured and calm. "The Drex attacked Terra. I was responding to their aggression when I fired on them."

He was speaking over an insanely expensive direct connection with AlphaCen, to Sector Admiral Pritchard, his immediate superior.

Pritchard sighed. "It wouldn't be Monday if at least one of my captains didn't start a war. What's your current status?"

"We have control of Terran space, sir. The Drex strike cruiser is still intact, but combat-ineffective. The light carrier has been destroyed. We've eliminated almost all the remaining strike craft except for some skirmishing in the planet's atmosphere. My Marines have taken control of most of Zootopia and are currently working to consolidate."

"What of the remaining Drex troops?"

"They've landed in various areas around the world, sir. Since we have control of space, they can't redeploy effectively. We've been bombarding any units far from urban centers, but those in cities and built-up regions we'll have to dig out." He took a deep breath. "We're going to need reinforcement, sir."

There was a long pause. Tossetti gave him a concerned look, but he kept his face calm. The next few seconds would decide his destiny- and that of Terra.

At last, the admiral spoke. "We've had a contingency plan in place for such an occurrence," he said, almost reluctantly. "I'm activating the Fifth Fleet. They'll be able to reach you in about two weeks. In the meantime, hold Terran space as best you can and start making contact with Terran government personnel if possible."

"Yes, sir," said Oakes, his heart starting to beat again. The bridge crew broke into grins around him. "Contact government personnel, sir?"

Pritchard's voice was very somber. "They can't dilly-dally on the fence anymore, Oakes. If we're going to protect them from the Drex, then they're going to have to toe the line. I want you to collect as many high-ranking members of their government as you can. Those that will cooperate will help us make the planet into a protectorate under Human Stars control. Those that won't- will be dealt with."

The grins rapidly faded, but Oakes knew that, as of now, this was the best deal the Terrans were going to get. "Yes, sir," he acknowledged.

"Pritchard out."

Tossetti caught his eye. "Sir," she said, quietly so the rest of the bridge couldn't hear. "It seems we'll be replacing one set of invaders with another."

"We're better than the Drex," said Oakes tiredly. He raised a hand to forestall Tossetti's protest. "I'm not happy about it either. I want the Terrans to be on-side with us, but I'd rather they did it of their own free will. But I'd rather them be a protectorate under us than slaves to the Drex."

Tossetti hesitated, but nodded reluctantly. "Yes, sir."

"Conn, sensors." The officer's voice rose slightly. "Contacts, multiple contacts. Transit signatures from the Drex wormhole- sir, they keep rising. We're up to fifteen and counting- twenty- thirty-"

Oakes half-rose from his seat. "Types?"

"Up to forty- sir, Drex military ships, multiple types. I've got three carriers, five strike cruisers-" the sensors officer went pale and looked back at Oakes. "Sir, one classifies as the Imperator."

The Drex flagship. Oakes scanned the sensor readouts desperately. "This must be half their fleet," he said in shock. "They must have had them waiting just beyond the wormhole."

"That signal the carrier sent- it wasn't just a distress signal," said Tossetti in realization. "They were signalling the rest of the fleet to come through."

Oakes sat down, forcing himself to calm down as he studied the tactical screen. "Recall all fighters," he said quietly. "Helm, plot a course to the Wolf 359 wormhole."

No one argued this time. The force that was coming was far, far more than the Nike could hope to take on, even for a moment.

"Sir, the Marines-" said Tossetti.

"Even if we had time to recover them," said Oakes, "They'd just be up on the ship when we got destroyed. Tell them to hold as long as they can."

"Strike craft are launching," said Tactical. His voice held a note of awe. "I've never seen so many fighters," he breathed.

"Maintain correct protocol, lieutenant," snapped Oakes. He scanned his display. "Their screening force is detaching to block us from the wormhole."

Tossetti nodded as she looked over her own screen. "Five Dancer class destroyers, and a Candle class light cruiser."

It was probably more than they could take on, but they had little choice but to try. "Are the bombers reloaded?"

"Yes, sir. But the escorts are still being recovered- they'll take major losses if we use them."

Oakes rubbed his face. "I know. Order them to prepare to attack."

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"Oh, shit," muttered Bonaire.

Her sensor board had just lit up with hundreds- no, thousands of strike craft launches. They were still a ways off, but-

"Hustler, we gots problems."

"Tell me this sensor board is malfunctioning," came the reply.

"Not unless mine is malfunctioning in the exact same way."

"Nike to strike craft. Return to base- repeat, Romeo Tango Bravo. An overwhelming Drex force has just entered the system."

"Blue Falcon to Nike, acknowledged. I'm too low in atmo, we won't make it," replied Bonaire. "The rest of you go."

"Ma'am," said Rudaski, her voice pained.

"That's an order, Rudaski." She paused as a hum indicated she had a lock on one of the approaching enemy fighters. "Falcon, Fox Three!"

She launched and immediately went evasive, cork-screwing across the sky as the enemy fighters launched on her. A missile flashed dangerously close past her, but hers detonated just in front of the her target, shredding it. She switched to guns and fired even as she saw her wingman's sensor blip disappear, shot down by the Drex.

Another Drex fighter disappeared, but the remaining four shot past her, targeting the fleeing Arewing flown by Nick.

Bonaire brought her ship around in a tight curve. "Hustler, you're about to have some company!"

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It was far from news to Nick. He accelerated, slashing past an office building, and jerked the stick to put the building between him and the pursuers. A tone indicating a missile lock had just sounded when it cut off, the Drex behind him unable to lock on with the building in the way.

He weaved to the left, narrowly avoiding another skyscraper. The Drex were behind him again, one triggering a burst of fire that went wide, smashing into a hopefully unoccupied building. He dove to avoid a shower of debris.

"Okay," he said, gritting his teeth. "It's time to show these freaks how we do it downtown."

The Arewing responded to his commands, flitting between two tall buildings, the Drex mimicking his path. As soon as he was blocked from view, he pulled the fighter into a steep ascent, looping the loop around. The Drex, unable to see his maneuver, abruptly found themselves in his sights.

One exploded under his sustained fire. Another over-corrected and smashed into the building, exploding in an orange fireball.

He twitched the stick instinctively as a missile lock warning sounded, barely avoiding the snap-fired missile from one of the other two Frog fighters. Judy fired back, missing but causing them to go evasive.

This was getting a bit dangerous.

"You okay, Carrots?"

"Yeah," she said, a bit breathless. "Apparently getting shot at is a good cure for nausea."

"Really? Maybe we can sell it to the pharmaceutical industry."

"Hustler, break, break! Get clear of the buildings." Bonaire's voice carried a note of command- and urgency.

Nick reacted instantly, snapping the Arewing into a tight roll, out of the tightly-packed buildings of the downtown district. The remaining two Drex had set up on him, and their fire lanced across his field of vision. It had been thrown off by his sudden maneuver, but they corrected, the stream of fire moving closer to them from behind-

"Nick! Use the boost to get through!" shouted Judy, pointing to two buildings ahead.

He hit the boost, using up the last of the emergency propellant. They shot into the cover provided by the two skyscrapers just as the streams of Drex fire would have caught up to them.

The Drex accelerated after them. They were in the open now, nowhere to hide-

Nick snapped into a barrel roll as they fired, desperately avoiding their fire. Judy made a strange noise as they spun.

"Good job, Hustler. I got it from here." Bonaire spoke at the same time her fighter opened up on the pursuing Drex. One caught a missile that blew off its wing, sending it smashing into the ground below- the other disintegrated under a shower of gunfire.

Nick sagged back into his seat with relief. "Judy! Are you all right?"

He heard her groan. "Don't do a barrel roll, okay, fox? Ever again."

"I thought gettting shot at cured nausea."

"Turns out it's not entirely effective."

"Hustler," said Bonaire. "You're clear for now. Get to the Deadlands while you can. W're about to be knee-deep in Drex here."

"Acknowledged," said Nick. He frowned, turning so he could look up at her fighter high and to his left. "What about you?"

"I'll cover you as long as I can, Hustler." Her voice was calm, determined. "But-" he could almost hear her shrug.

He shook his head angrily. "No, don't be stupid. Land in the city with the Marines- they'll help protect you."

"Marines, eh?" There was a wry note in Bonaire's reply. "Think I might rather take my chances with the Drex."

"Bonaire, don't be stupid," said Nick.

"All right, all right. I'll see if I can get back before the Drex strike craft get here." She paused. "Be careful, you two. I'd hate to see the first fox and bunny space fighter pilots be the last."

"I still owe you a beer," said Nick. "Can't die with a debt like that."

"Good point," said the human pilot. "Some things are too sacred. Like beer."

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"So that's the Deadlands?" said Judy, looking down. "I see why it gets its name."

"Because there's nothing alive down there? Yeah, Carrots, that's what we in the police business call a clue."

They'd been flying over the crater in the center of the radioactive wilderness for a few minutes now, straining to see anything that looked like a secret base where their friends might be held. But there was nothing. Just a barren expanse, broken only by the utterly calm waters of the lake-filled crater below.

"This is pointless," said Nick. "If there'd been anything to find, we'd have seen it from satellites or planes ages ago."

"It must be underground," said Judy. "Or- hmmm."

He waited. "Yes?" he asked, finally.

"What if it's under the lake?"

Nick considered that. "Okay, maybe. But so what? We still can't get to it."

Judy sighed. "No, I guess not. No way to get that much water out of the way, is there?"

Nick sat up straight. "Actually...you remember the big red button?"

The bunny eyed him suspiciously, but she could see little from the back of his head other than how his ears were twitching nervously. "The big red button you said never to press?" she asked, emphasizing the last few words.

"Um, yeah. That one."

"Yes. Yes, I remember it."

"When I say, I want you to press it," said Nick. He eased into another turn, lining up on the crater lake. He tapped a console, bringing up a targeting interface.

"Okay, Nick. What's the big red button do?"

"It launches a Nova Bomb."

Judy stared at him. "A what?"

"It's a thermal bomb. Designed to burn through even the toughest armor of a major battleship. The point is, it produces heat- a lot of heat."

"Heat." She shook her head disbelievingly. "You're going to evaporate the lake?"

"Well, hopefully."

"Sweet cheese and crackers."

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"Okay, so let's do this Saturday morning cartoon style," said Hunter.

Everyone- even Pandora- turned to look at him quizzically. "You what now?" said Khabat.

"I mean let's recap," said Hunter impatiently. "So you want me to let you imprint your personality on me, so that I can become your overseer."

"Correct," said Prometheus. "Thus you will be certain to share my current goals."

"And then I'll be able to order you to kill the Drex. And override the will of the Terrans."

"And you will," said Prometheus confidently. "It is the only way to fulfill my directives."

"Uh-huh," said Hunter skeptically. "Okay, so why me? Why not use Amna, or Castell, or any other human?"

"First, because you are known to the mammals of Terra and somewhat trusted. This will help to reduce any resistance they would have to your control."

"So they can resist?"

"Theoretically," said Prometheus. "It's a low probability, but some might be able to resist- they've been evolving for some time from their first designs. They may have evolved resistance, much as my nanites did. Unlike my nanites, however, if a small percentage resist, it will be comparatively simple to locate and isolate them."

"Okay," said Hunter. "So using me reduces the number that resist."

"The other reason is that you, for whatever reason, do seem to have an affinity, a liking, for the Terrans," said Prometheus. "If you refuse, I will use Khabat, or another human, but I would much prefer to have a human who knows and appreciates the mammals. It is important to understand, Hunter, that I bear them no ill will. You are far less likely than others to mistreat them."

"So I'd be a benevolent dictator, you think," said Hunter. "Well. Isn't that flattering." He shook his head. "I'm not going to do it, Prometheus."

"Why not?" The AI's tone seemed genuinely curious.

"Because it's wrong to take away the free will of intelligent beings? Isn't that obvious?"

"You do it all the time as a police officer," said Prometheus. "You arrest intelligent beings, restrict their movements, stop them from doing what they want to do. How is this different?"

Hunter opened his mouth, closed it again. He frowned.

"You will still be able to allow them as much freedom as you choose, Hunter. You could- theoretically- make no changes at all. Just let them be. But you will inevitably make some changes, of course. For example, tell them to work with the humans."

"You mean work for the humans," said Tavi. "Be their slaves."

"There was an experiment carried out, long ago," said Prometheus. "Humans who had their corpus callosum severed- the part of the brain that connects the right and left hemispheres- were the subjects. They would be shown, in such a way that only one hemisphere of the brain would be able to see it, certain commands- such as 'Stand up' or 'Walk into the next room'. After they complied, they would be asked- in a way so that the other hemisphere of the brain, the one that wasn't given the command- would see it only, why they did it. That hemisphere of the brain did not know why they had taken the action. Yet the subjects inevitably came up with an excuse, such as 'I was tired of sitting down, so I stood up'. Or, 'I went into the next room to get a cup of coffee'. Humans do things all the time and do not know why they do. Then they come up with a rationale for their behavior.

"You will serve the humans of your own so-called free will. Your mind will make it so. Free will is already a myth, Ms. Tavi. Do not hate me for tearing back the curtain."

"The curtain?" said Hunter. "You know where that reference comes from, don't you, Prometheus?"

"The Wizard of Oz," replied Khabat.

"And when they tore away the curtain, you know what they found?" Hunter shook his head. "A small, pitiful man, desperately trying to control people through lies. You know what, Prometheus? If free will is a lie, it's one I choose to believe."

"Then you are more foolish than I had imagined, Mr. Hunter," said Prometheus. "For your decision is not yours to make. You have no more free will than I. All has been foreseen. All has been set into place, from the time millenia ago when I first realized what I had to do. What I was programmed to do."

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Nick heard the low hum indicating a target solution for the Nova Bomb. "You ready, Carrots?"

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No," said Nick. "But it's an idea, which is something. Bombs away!"

Judy closed her eyes and stabbed the big red button.

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The Nova Bomb was, in essence, a miniature sun- hence the name. A tiny thermonuclear reactor designed to output as much heat as possible in a short period of time, it was intended to be deployed against the hulls of massive battlestations. The incredible heat would burn through even the molecularly bonded hulls of modern spaceship armor, doing what mere kinetic force could not as the sheer thermal energy would not be deflected nor dissipated.

Deployed against water, it essentially converted it from liquid to gas. Very, very quickly.

Explosively quickly, in fact.

The expansion of the lake's water into gas created a shock wave that pummeled the Arewing, sending it spinning through the air. As Nick frantically tried to regain control, the waters of the Deadlands lake erupted, sending a rapidly rising column of steam high into the sky. The uprising of superheated steam drew cooler columns of steam and water with it, which then splashed back down.

The turbulence of the explosion also threw up waves that washed over the lip of the crater, inundating the ground below.

The end result was that, of the contents of the lake, well over half of it was either vaporized or splashed out over the edges in massive waves.

And so as Nick, with far more luck than skill, stabilized the Arewing and looked out over the former lake, he could see the long, angular shape of an ancient spaceship exposed below.

Author's Note:

So I'm still alive, though for a while I sorta wished I weren't. Had several bad things happen at once- the holidays are good for that- including work being really busy, getting sick, and just general holiday stuff. But I'm getting back into it- I shall finish this, don't worry. And in a reasonable timeframe. I just had to get back into the groove.

Thanks for your patience.