A NEW BEGINNING
Chapter Seventeen
"The Invasion"
19:59 – Planet Snivelak, Thug HQ (The Bridge), Bogon Galaxy
Corporal Trakgnak, a first-class brute, and his group of six highly trained and heavily armed henchmen stood in front of the massive rubble that used to be HQ's communications tower. They all knew that beneath the rubble lied their fallen compatriots--killed instantly by the collapse of the building, smothered by fire and debris: one of the invaders' ships had done this. A fiery tangerine glow washed over them, and bits of wood from the tower's structure crackled and shot up motes of ember from the remains. And despite how fast rain poured from the sky, it did little to extinguish the flames. Frequent explosions rang above and around the base as the air battles continued on all around them, a sense of revenge hardening in them, rekindling the spark of excitement--the adrenaline rush--that they'd felt when they first became a thug.
In silver chest armor, low-cut gray pants, and shoulder plates befitting his large size, Trakgnak wielded his giant energy cannon in one hand, and in the other, he gripped a small radio communicator. With a wave of his cannon, his team dispersed in all directions, seeking out to kill whatever that dared to get past them and onto the bridge. "Spreads out, men. Don't let anything gets through, and keep an eyes out for activity in those space pods. If they so much as moves, blasts them to oblivion," he ordered quickly, and then brought up the radio in hand and held down a button.
Into the communicator, he said, "Captain, the entrance to the bridge is secured, and a laser proof glass shield has been installed in place. What is your next command?" He released the button and the communicator clicked as he waited for a response from behind the walls of the base.
A familiar voice came and served as a great reassurance to the thug. "Good work, Corporal. I'll be sending in attack-copters and attack-ships to aid you and yar men, as well as Ghan's air support, to reinforce the first line. Keep in constant radio communication with Ghan, he'll know what to do," said the air captain.
Trakgnak nodded to himself, rubbing his eyes free of rain with the back of his hand. He brought up the radio to his lips one last time. "Thanks, Captain Rezabar. I'll keep youz posted on the events here. Trakgnak out." He slid the radio into its sleeve clipped on his combat belt, and then turned to face the direction of the Attack-Copter Pad, where First Lieutenant Ghan and his pilots were preparing their secondary assault in the event that Captain Rezabar's attack-ships failed to suppress the invaders.
At the attack-copter pad, Ghan was busily directing a variety of orders to his pilots, assigning each of them a specific destination outside of HQ. The red-masked, heavily built brute marched the length of the small heliport, his eyes narrowing behind his mask, into bright orange slits, every time he saw one of his pilots shot down by the invaders. Off to his right, there was an incoming attack-copter trying to escape the murderous line of fire from the enemy, but when it flew higher to correct its course, a few energy blasts disabled its tail rotor, causing the copter to go into a dangerous spin in midair. The invader ship screeched past the small heliport, past Ghan and his men, followed by the twirling attack-copter heading toward the ocean.
Unable to correct the helicopter in time, the pilot within the cockpit dared to escape by leaping out of his side door, but the helicopter's main rotors came into contact too soon with the water, its long, flat blades fragmenting into several pieces. When the attack-copter slammed into the water, an explosion erupted, creating a vivid flash over Trakgnak and the small heliport; the inferno engulfing much of the aircraft and the pilot.
Trakgnak shielded his eyes for a moment, growling in indignation. "Damnit!" he spat violently, turning around and sprinting toward the other end of the heliport. There he pushed aside one of his pilots and took over the pilot's chair, shutting himself inside. He waited for a moment before starting the helicopter's engines.
While the engines hummed to life, he pulled on a headset a pilot would wear and brought up a communicator to his mask. "Corporal, where is my backup? Has Captain Rezabar sent in reinforcements yet? Over."
Back at the bridge, Trakgnak unlatched his radio from his belt and answered, "Yes, sir. Reinforcements are on the way. And I presume youz heard him complaining about the attack-ship he lent youz."
"Good, good. I'm losing some of my best pilots out theres," returned Trakgnak, looking up through the windshield of the copter to see the conditions of the sky. A streak of lightning came down in a brilliant flash. "Yeah, I heard. Just don't tells him that the ship I borrowed has already gone up in flames. Then he'll kills me. Hehe!" he laughed, realizing his copter was ready for ascent. He continued, "I'll tells you what, Corporal. I'm on my ways. I'm going to lead the last of my men and help youz defend the bridge. We can't let the first line of defense fall. Trakgnak, over and out." The brute soughed heavily and placed the radio down in the passenger seat.
Back at headquarters, at the main heliport launch site, Captain Rezabar was taken aback by a sudden grasp of his right shoulder. He turned his head quickly and saw that it was a young henchman. Behind the young lad, a series of attack-ships were preparing to take off, all except one, which was to be used by himself.
Dressed in a tactical vest, strong, denim army pants, a pair of durable boots, and a one-piece, square combat visor which was something marksmen would wear on duty, Velak stood to attention as best as he could, albeit still drunk. In a hand, he gripped his trusty Flux Rifle. On his face, he wore a partially goofy smile, and his orange eyes beamed low and moved lazily. Rezabar gave an unimpressed look, wanting to berate the intoxicated soldier, but decided against it. Instead, he pointed a clawed finger at him, looked him up and down, and told him to climb aboard the last attack-ship.
"I see yar almost ready for combat, Velak. I suggest you hurry and get aboard my ship. I know just the place for you to take position on the enemy and to defend the entire bridge," said Rezabar, gesturing for the henchman to go to the ship.
Velak gave a sloppy salute, "Yes, sir!" He hiccuped, turning around and teetering down the platform toward the last attack-ship. After seeing this drunken display, Rezabar only shook his head, gathered his pilot's helmet, and then followed the henchman.
Inside the attack-ship, with Velak sitting behind the pilot's chair, Captain Rezabar pressed a button on his dashboard to seal them inside. The canopy began closing them in together. With another press of a button, the attack-ship's engines roared, becoming charged for liftoff. Velak sat back firmly in his seat with his rifle down at his side, and looked around the interior the ship, becoming fascinated with the many lights, switches, and buttons, but dared himself not to touch any of them for fear of incensing the captain. He remained quiet in the back, listening to the many different sounds coming from the Vukovar's headset communicator.
"Captain? Captain Rezabar?" said a familiar voice, from someone Velak recognized easily in his intoxicated state. A feral smile enlarged on his face at the thought of the day's earlier encounter that special someone.
Rezabar pressed his communicator closer to his ear to hear the voice clearly. "Rezabar, here. Where have you been, Captain Natasha? I've been worried about you. Before you called, I was heading out with the rest of my force to put an end to these invaders, combining my team with Trakgnak's."
In a voice filled with melancholy, "No need to worry, sir, I had to take care of some unfinished business. Please do carry on without me. I will prepare the third line of defense while you're away. The ground troops will be ready at my command," she coughed suddenly, creating great concern in Rezabar and Velak.
Rezabar stared outside the window of the cockpit, noticing how the rain was beginning to come down harder like hail against the glass. "Are you all right?"
Velak edged closer behind the captain, trying to hear Natasha more closely.
"Yes, sir. I'll be fine. Tell me . . . is Velak with you?"
Rezabar nodded, "Indeed, he is. Drunk, but he's capable of doing the job I have far him. We'll be heading toward the bridge, and I'll drop him off into a sniping spot, in a place where he'll be able to defend the bridge and be out of harm's way because of his current condition."
"That's good. I wish him the best of luck. Take good care of him, Captain. Natasha, out."
"Understood. And out," replied Rezabar, who suddenly glanced over his shoulder at Velak.
The conversation ended there. Captain Rezabar gripped the flight stick of the attack-ship and pulled it back, lifting the ship off the heliport. He pressed another switch and a burst from behind the ship, its thrusters blazing a bright blue, it shot the aircraft forth at great speeds, leaving behind the landing zone in a matter of seconds.
Velak slid back into his seat in an instant, his velcro safety belts pulling him back uncomfortably. Together, they passed over the base, flying toward the bridge. A moment's glance from the side windows of the canopy, Velak saw the rest of the army taking their places, forming the third line of defense. The ground troops were getting into position just as Captain Natasha said they would.
The hum of the attack-ship's engine quieted as the ship came to a slow flight just to the left of the bridge, beside one of the two towering super structures. While holding the flight stick steady, Rezabar positioned the ship close enough, and then motioned his head over a shoulder to Velak.
He gave the order, "Velak, here is yar sniper spot. Make good use of it and try not to fall off."
Rezabar held the ship's control with a hand and used the other to engage the controls for the canopy. It slid open with a quick hiss and rain came quickly down on them. Velak slung his rifle over his shoulder, climbed out of the ship, and leapt onto the top structure of the bridge, turning around to bid the captain farewell.
"Captain--" he began, but stopped when the captain silenced him with a wave of his hand.
"Remember, defend the bridge, defend the base. I'll return to get you should the first and second defense lines fall," was all the captain said before shutting the canopy and flying off to join his men in air combat.
Velak watched the captain's ship join in the fray, with a mixture of quadruple helix energy cannon fire from the attack-copters and laser energy cannons from the neighboring attack-ships. The enemy star explorers returned rapid fire of blue, dual incandescent lasers. Not wanting to waste any more time, the henchman carefully got into position atop the bridge where he could get a critical vantage point at the beginning and end of the bridge; his only blind spot being beneath him. He pulled off his sniper rifle from his shoulder, slid off its stabilizer, pieced it together, and then positioned the rifle on it. He laid on his stomach and peered through the advanced scope attached to the weapon, assessing the situation in front of the bridge with Trakgnak and his men.
Within the halls of the Manhunters building, Captain Natasha walked sluggishly against a side wall with her injured right shoulder, smearing a trail of blood behind her. She gripped her left forearm where she had been cut, as evident by a few claw marks, but she walked on ignoring the pain smiting the top right part of her ear, a part of it missing. It proved difficult to see with a swollen eye, but she had managed to keep moving for this far and this long; she wasn't about to succumb to weariness, not yet. She still had a job to do.
Back at her office, a couple of halls down, a scaly hand reached up to clutch the turned over office desk, bearing down on it with its black claws. A beaten and bloodied figure rose sorely, but it breathed nonetheless. It was Stravek. He groaned and flinched every time he tried to move more than he should while climbing to his feet pitifully. But once he managed to stand again, looking out the broken office window and realizing what was going on outside after his previous unconsciousness, he turned to leave the room.
He stumbled out into the hall and slammed into a wall, holding his chest with an arm. A few of his ribs were broken, but he wasn't about to let that stop him, so he continued onward noticing bloody signs of Natasha's trying escape. In his mind, he kept saying to himself that he hadn't lost the battle because she hadn't killed him--that was her biggest mistake. It was no longer a battle between captain and friend, or captain and subordinate, but between two former lovers: if he couldn't have her, no one would--not even his brother.
He painfully carried on down the halls after her, hoping he would catch up to her before she could request help from someone outside of the building, from a guard or an officer, to have him arrested, or worse, possibly executed. And if that was the case, he told himself he would have to kill everyone and everything that stood in his way, between him and the snake. Captain Natasha wasn't someone to be kept in the thug order, and especially not after her corrupt ways of alluring young soldiers for her every whim.
The general of the thug army stood outside of the main governing building, the soaring, multileveled complex of unprecedented height, descending the many stairs and addressing new orders to the present thugs who all would make up the third line of defense. He gripped one of his gigantic blades in one hand and swayed it in whatever direction he wanted a set number of thugs to go in, the heavy blade itself creating a menacing sound as it cut through the air and rain. Left and right, hundreds of thugs took their positions as given to them; and, by the time the thug leader finished giving a new batch of orders, he reached the last stair step and touched ground on the main street overlooking the barracks, the cantina, and the plaza. He turned to sky and saw that the invasion wasn't really go anywhere.
"Here you go, sir," said a thug beside the general, serving as radio specialist. "I've patched youz through to the first line of defense coordinator. He is awaiting your order."
The general snatched the communicator headset from the henchman and spoke into it, not bothering to slid the whole thing on, and on the back of a henchman, an enlarged speaker module returned the responses. "This is the general, speaking . . . activate the base's chain guns, plasma turrets, and anti-aircraft missiles."
A voice filled with uncertainty and reason responded to the order. "But sir, won't we's hit some of our own men?"
The general growled, "You have your order! Do it!"
"Y-y-yes, sir!"
On the tail of one of the enemy fighters, Captain Rezabar prepared to fire when a blast rocked his attack-ship. "Whoa, whoa! What the . . . ?" he yelled. He pressed down on a button on the right of his pilot's helmet to channel his headset. "Lieutenant Ghan? Come in."
"Yes, Captain? Coming up and flying on your side."
Rezabar turned to his right and saw the lieutenant in an attack-copter. "Did you see that? I was just hit by something. Was it one of yours?"
Ghan shook his head. "I wouldn't know, sir. But . . ."--he glanced to the right of his helicopter and arched an eyebrow--"sir, it's the base's automated defenses. They're firing at us!"
Rezabar scowled. "It's the general's doing. He probably wants to end this air raid as soon as possible."
"If that's the case, should we's pull back and gets out of the way?"
"Yes, pull your people out. Rezabar out." He opened another channel to his team. "Captain Rezabar, here, all attack-ships return to base and defend. Let the base's defenses do the rest."
Rezabar veered his ship away from the enemy fighter he'd been tailing and began flying toward the bridge, passing beneath it and creating waves of water on both sides of his aircraft. Moments later, nine of his ships disengaged battle and followed him. Ghan's men followed a similar procedure, heading toward the right of the base and making up an aerial defense line. Altogether, ships and copters formed another kind of defense perimeter around the base, swarming about like hornets around their nest. Enemy ships were left to their own devices while some of them were unable to avoid the base's defenses, being blown apart by turret fire.
At the front of the bridge, Trakgnak moved in cautiously toward a few cone-shaped, chrome-colored space pods that were conveniently positioned beside each other. For a moment, he thought he had seen one move, but he assumed his imagination was playing tricks on him. He held his weapon ready at the closest one, stealing quick glimpses of where the rest of his team were in the area.
The center pod hissed open, releasing an endless, sultry stream of white steam which startled the brute. The steam immediately concealed the area in a thick fog, hampering Trakgnak and his team. In response, he fired blindly toward the pods. Compelled to do the same, the rest of his team followed his example until one by one a member's firing stopped completely.
From atop the bridge, Velak zoomed in on the scene, but could only see energy blasts cutting through the thick fog and leaving it. "What's goin' on down theres?"
Suddenly, Trakgnak was the only one firing. He began shouting into his communicator. "Captain! Captain! We have movement in the space pods."
Captain Rezabar was still airborne above the base by the time he received the frantic message from Trakgnak. "Corporal? Corporal!"
Velak motioned his rifle away from where Trakgnak and his team were over to a more remote area away from the bridge. On a piece a land half a mile away from where the communications tower used to stand, there was a parked space fighter; its pilot, nowhere in sight.
Captain Rezabar tried contacting Natasha, but grew increasingly in alarm at the shabox's disappearance. "Where is she? Something has happened to her," he said silently to himself and began circulating the base, coming up toward the Manhunters building. He hovered above the building and looked outside through the canopy of his attack-ship, trying to see if he could spot her on the streets. There still wasn't any sign of her.
Captain Natasha fell forward, catching herself on the doors of the entrance to the Manhunters building. She looked behind her, scared that he would appear to finish what he started. Not waiting a second more, she quickly straightened herself up, gathered her composure, and walked outside onto the streets. She feigned to walk in a casual gait, but she still moved as if she were in great pain. She brisked through the streets, trying to get to a crowded area where she could assume command and be within the safety of her troops. She turned a corner and the explosiveness of the base's plasma cannons knocked her back. She covered her ears and tried to rise up once more.
She trailed back a minute and tried going down an alleyway between the barracks and cantina, where no one would see her just yet. Behind her, she heard footsteps and whirled around in fright, but no one was there. The rain came down and cleaned her nicely, but it also made her cold and stiff. She stretched her hands out to feel the walls behind the two buildings, using them as her guide through the partial darkness as her vision became blurred because of the rain. Again, she turned around when she heard some more footsteps.
"Who is there?" she called behind her, but didn't receive an answer.
The plaza wasn't too far away now. Natasha trudged on in her weakened state, becoming hopeful of making it to her command post. When she reached the end of the alleyway, she paused for a moment before coming out into the open, and smiled.
"I made it . . . ." she whispered, and then took another step forward.
She shrieked when a pair of hands seized her by the shoulders and pulled her back into the darkness of the alleyway. The shabox fell back against a masculine chest, and she feared to look up and see who it was. The pair of hands spun her around so she could face their owner. She gazed up weakly, looking bedraggled.
"Stravek? You just don't know when you've lost, do you, lizard?" she said in her usual, cool and collected voice.
"No, I won't. That's why I'm the best, furball," he said before forcing her into a brick wall and restraining her there by the wrists. She gasped.
The shabox panted, "What do you want now? You want to kill me? Get rid of me?"
He collared her with his strong hand, wanting to choke the life out of her. "I won't kill youz. Youz going to do that all by yourself."
"Then let me go. I've got to get the ground forces on the move. We can always discuss,"--she motioned her paws down his chest--"these things later on, after we take care of this invasion."
She insulted his intelligence by touching him in that manner, so he increased the pressure around her throat, to the point where she had to reach up and clutch his hand, but he tightened the hold even more. He took pleasure in watching her suffer; and how her eyes welled up and made her look innocent when she really wasn't.
"Don't do that ever again or I will kill you," he growled in her face most viciously, breathing hot, smelly breaths and showing his bloodstained fangs, which were wet with hers. He released her, letting her fall to his knees.
In a more sadistic tone, she muttered, "I really, really don't have time for this . . . ." His clawed feet walked off, toward the other end of the alley, and disappeared.
Natasha rose again, rubbing her throbbing neck. She looked back in the direction which he'd come and gone, but said nothing else. A part of her was grateful that he had spared her, but another part of her wanted to seek revenge on him. But . . . there was something else she had to do that was more important than straightening out the mess she had gotten herself into between two brothers and soldiers. She stepped out into the open and approached the plaza, where hundreds of her troops waited.
When they saw her, they froze in place. All of them were in absolute disbelief of how horrible she looked, and many of them began to wonder what had happened to her. They watched attentively as she got into position in front of them, turned around, and raised her arm to give the order to move out.
Natasha lowered her arm, "Move out! Third line of defense, form a perimeter before the bridge, on the bridge, I want armored tanks moved into place. Create a defense line at every junction of this base--leave no place unprotected."