Grumpy Bulldog FanFic Collection

Backstory

2012-06-13T06:59:00.000-07:00

Generally speaking, I believe fan fiction to be a lower, vulgar art form. Yet sometimes I enjoy engaging in it in-between more serious projects. It's campy fun that can keep the writing muscles in shape without taxing the brain. Sure you can't legally make money off them, but who wants to write for profit all the time anyway? (OK, me too, but...)

The jewel of this collection is a series of Transformers fanfics from 1997-1998 called "The Skyfire Adventures." The Transformer toy Jetfire--based on a Robotech Veritech fighter--was my favorite Transformer of all time. In fact, I still have the one I originally received for Christmas in 1985 and in 1996 bought one still mint in the box. Anyway, as I was in college and didn't want to do anything serious and the surging popularity of the Web allowed me to connect with Transformers fans all over the world, many of whom had written their own stories, I wrote a whole novel called "Transformers: Xenophobia" and then followed it up with a series of shorter, unrelated fanfics.

It was intended to be over a dozen parts, but I only did the first seven and then wrapped it up . Those stories blend the Transformers universe of the 1980s with the new Beast Wars series of the mid-1990s. In it, our hero the Autobot Jetfire--now a Maximal called Skyfire, which was his name in the '80s TV series because of copyright issues--ends up on remote world where he finds a crashed shuttle with several Autobots in suspended animation. They then explore the galaxy on their way back home and have a variety of strange and exciting adventures--mostly strange, especially the last one.

There's also a Star Trek: Voyager fanfic and a couple others that aren't really fanfics but they fit better here than the regular short story collection.

The links are on the right side. Please enjoy all those juicy tidbits of fanfic...

Unofficial Discworld Series Companion

2009-04-21T06:01:00.000-07:00

Unofficial Discworld Series Companion

Series Written By Terry Pratchett
Reviews Written By BJ Fraser

Volume 1: The Color of Magic (Or Colour of Magic if you prefer the UK spelling): This is the first Discworld novel, published originally in 1983. I doubt Pratchett thought he'd still be writing the series 25 years later. This first novel serves mostly as a send-up of fantasy epics like "Lord of the Rings" and such and lays out the unusual geography of the Discworld, that being a flat world carried by four elephants on the back of a huge space turtle. The novel deals with Rincewind, a dropout of the Unseen University for wizards, who knows only one magic spell and makes a living on the streets of grubby Ankh-Morpork as best he can. When he is employed by a rich tourist from the far-off Golden Empire, Rincewind thinks he'll make a quick buck. Little does the cowardly would-be wizard know that he's gotten himself entangled in a quest that will take him to (and over) the edges of the Disc.

As I said, this largely lays out the geography of the world, with lots of explanations of how the Disc and its various societies, gods, and so forth work. (This includes the "color of magic" to which the title refers; that color is octarine, an eighth primary color.) On its own it's an amusing novel, though not great. Having read future installments of the series, everything seems a bit off in this first installment. It's like watching season 20 of "The Simpsons" and then going back to watch an episode of season 1 where the voices of some characters (notably Homer) aren't quite right. Had I started with this one, I'm not sure I'd have been keen to read 30 more. (3 stars)

Volume 2: The Light Fantastic: This is a direct sequel to "The Color of Magic" and possibly the only direct sequel in the series, though if I'm wrong I'm sure I'll find out soon enough. Anyway, Rincewind thought he was through with crazy adventures, but an even crazier adventure beckons as the great space turtle seems to be on a collision course with a star. It just might be the one spell Rincewind knows can actually help save the entire Discworld.

Like "The Color of Magic" before it, this one is good, but not great. I think Pratchett had begun the process of settling in more to creating a series instead of just one book. It's still an amusing read if you have a couple hours to spare. (3 stars)

Volume 3: Equal Rites: This is the first Discworld novel to expand the universe outside of Rincewind. In this case the story revolves around a witch named Granny Weatherwax, who lives in the isolated Ramtop Mountains. On general principles Granny doesn't like associating with non-witches, but finds herself becoming a mentor and guardian to a little girl named Esk, who seems destined to become a wizard. Just one problem: there's never been a female wizard before.

There was some good potential for this story in the beginning, but the end never really lived up to it. For one thing, the story focuses itself on too narrow a timeframe, so that we don't really get to see much of Esk's challenges in trying to become a witch or her relationship to Simon. That they haven't reappeared to headline any of the other 30 books probably says something about the author's detachment to them. On a positive note, though, getting away from Rincewind allowed more of the Discworld universe to evolve. None of the Discworld books are probably essential reading, but this one even less so. (3 stars)

Volume 4: Mort: This is the first Discworld novel that focuses on DEATH as a main character. He appears in most every novel, at least in a cameo, but this novel really fleshes out (bad pun since he hasn't got any flesh) Death's world. Death becomes fascinated with humanity and so decides to experiment with human pleasures like drinking and eating, though fortunately not that other human pleasure. Meanwhile, he recruits a young man named Mort to cover for him. When Mort falls in love with one of his victims, the consequences are dire.

Maybe it's terribly morbid, but DEATH is probably my favorite character in the series to this point. (Second is the Librarian, an orangutan who answers everything with a hearty "Ook.") I'm pretty sure this laid the groundwork for the Susan character featured in future novels in the series, though I haven't got to that point yet. Anyway, on its own I liked this novel, though not as much as the later "Reaper Man" that also focuses heavily on DEATH. Still, I'd have to say that of the first group it's the one I liked best. (4 stars)

Volume 5: Sourcery: After two books Rincewind returns and once more the cowardly non-magical wizard has to save the universe. This time it's not a collision with a sun about to put an end to the world, but a powerful ten-year-old sourcerer, so called because he serves as a "source" for raw magic-it's a little complicated. A magic war breaks out among the wizards that threatens to destroy the fabric of reality unless Rincewind can save the day. (So everyone is pretty screwed.)

The Discworld universe continues to evolve with this book, especially the wizards. Rincewind is probably at his best of the three he's featured in at this point and is forced with a real issue other than survival when he has to take sides against his fellow wizards. The only flaw is at the end some of the characters were left with little to do but stand around and watch the fireworks, so to speak. That's a little slack storytelling. (3 stars)

Volume 6: Wyrd Sisters: this time we're back to Granny Weatherwax, last featured in "Equal Rites." Granny's got a couple new friends to form a coven-of sorts-that soon finds itself embroiled in political strife involving the assassination of a king and his newborn successor. Much of the story is modeled after works of Shakespeare like "Macbeth" and "Hamlet," which would probably be more humorous to me if I'd read (or watched) much Shakespeare.

I can't say I'm overly fond of the Granny Weatherwax character yet, but I think if you like "Wicked" (the Gregory Maguire book or the musical) you'll probably enjoy Pratchett's less-than-fanciful account of witches-and it's worth noting this came along seven years before Maguire's book. As I said above, if I knew about Shakespeare I'd have liked it more, but that's my fault not the book's. (4 stars)

Volume 7: Pyramids: this involves a kingdom loosely based on ancient Egypt, complete with pharaohs, mummies, and of course pyramids. The pharaoh's son Pteppic is sent to the city of Ankh-Morpork, where he becomes an assassin. But on the day he graduates, his father dies and he's brought home to take over as the god-king. The new pharaoh soon finds that all the real power in the kingdom rests with the high priest, who is so old and so much a fixture that no one can remember not having him around--there's a reason for this that's probably quantum. In one case, the high priest sentences a handmaiden to death in the name of the pharaoh, who then uses his assassin skills to rescue her, thus making him an enemy of the state--himself.

Meanwhile, construction begins on a pyramid for the previous pharaoh, one larger and grander than ever. But not only is the cost for this monstrosity devastating to the kingdom, the temporal energy it gives off threatens to destroy the entire kingdom.

I can't say I enjoyed this one a whole lot. Maybe I'm not into Egyptians and temporal mechanics enough. Or maybe like "Equal Rites" there wasn't enough of the main Discworld elements in this one to really pull me in. Or maybe I just like making stupid postulations. (3 stars)

Volume 8: Guards! Guards!: this one is about the laughably inept City Watch, who work the graveyard shift ringing a bell, shouting "all is well," and trying to stay out of the way. This is because the Machiavellian head of the metropolis of Ankh-Morpork, Lord Vetinari, has essentially legalized crime by unionizing thieves and assassins and giving them strict quotas. The head of the City Watch's night shift, Captain Sam Vimes, comes from that Bruce Willis mode of cops in that you can usually find him in a bar or in the gutter afterwards, stinking like a bar.

Things begin to change when a "dwarf" named Carrot arrives from the mountains. Carrot really isn't a dwarf, he's a human taken in by the dwarves since he was a baby and his parents were murdered. When he arrives in Ankh-Morpork he starts throwing the book (figuratively and literally) at the criminal element in the city despite Vimes and his lieutenants telling him to chill out. Meanwhile, a real crime is being perpetrated by a secret society trying to take control of the city by summoning a dragon. They get a lot more than they bargained for and now the only ones who can stop it are the City Watch with the help of the Lady Ramkin, one of her pet swamp dragons, and an orangutan librarian.

I think the good thing about this off the bat is that while the book is funny and the cops are inept, they aren't really "Keystone Cops" so much as guys who really don't have an important job and are well aware of this so they just don't care. Some of the plot is predictable but the main twist at the end I didn't really see coming. (4 stars)

Volume 9: Eric - This comes in at a brief 197 pages if you don't get the original illustrated edition--which I didn't. In this one Rincewind returns from exile in the Dungeon Dimensions at the end of "Sourcery." A 13-year-old demonologist named Eric has brought Rincewind back, thinking he's summoning a demon who can give him control of the universe, the most beautiful woman in the world, and eternal life. To Rincewind's surprise, he actually does this--after a fashion, but as the say: be careful what you wish for.

I read this book in about two hours, so it's a real light read. The way Pratchett melds ancient Greek and South American history to Discworld history is interesting, and his concept of Hell is funny for anyone who works in a cubicle. His Creator of the universe, though, seems borrowed in part from another Brit: Douglas Adams in the original "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."

Anyway, probably because this was supposed to be a picture book there's not a lot of depth to it. It'll amuse you for a couple hours though. (3 stars)

Volume 10: Moving Pictures: in this one an alchemist is conducting one of his idiotic experiments when he lo and behold SUCCEEDS at making something useful! What he invents is the Discworld equivalent of film. Before long he and his fellow alchemists head off to an abandoned place called Holy Wood and begin shooting silent movies that are made by imps quickly painting images onto the film while one of the alchemists turns a handle that "motivates" the imps to keep working.

Meanwhile, Victor is a wizard student at Unseen University who because of his uncle's will doesn't want to graduate and doesn't want to drop out either; he just wants to coast along like a less wild "Van Wilder." But when he sees a "click" as the silent films are known as, he heads off to Holy Wood along with thousands of other starstruck humans, trolls, and even dogs. Victor becomes a moving picture star along with a woman named Ginger.

Before long a former sausage salesman becomes a big-time movie producer and endeavors to put on the mother of all clicks--with a thousand elephants! But all this meddling with mysterious forces in abandoned places is bound to lead to trouble--trouble fit for a click!

All these different plot threads come together fairly well in the end as all our non-heroes battle weird Things for the fate of the Discworld. Still, it felt like I'd read most of this before with only the specifics changed. I suppose when you write as many of these as Pratchett has it's easy to fall into a formula, albeit an enjoyable formula.

I did enjoy this one slightly more than the previous one I read if only because it was fun to play "spot the reference" in terms of real movies like "Gone With the Wind," "King Kong," "Lassie," and "Casablanca" among others. The real film industry was about as primitive as the Holy Wood version early on, only without the imps and trolls. (3 stars)

Volume 11: Reaper Man: As the title suggests, "Reaper Man" is about Death, both with a capital and lower-case D. Two stories run throughout the book, finally intersecting at the end. The first is about Death--the Grim Reaper in popular parlance--who is being retired by his masters because Death seems to be developing a personality. With typical bureaucratic foresight, Death's masters have no replacement lined up.

The impact of this is told through the story of 130-year-old wizard Windle Poons. After living a long, dull life at Unseen University, Windle is finally ready to go into the Great Beyond. He finally passes away at his retirement party, but soon finds one hitch: no one is there to collect his spirit. With nowhere else to go, Windle returns to his body and becomes a zombie. Not the mindless, shambling, brain-eating zombies of horror movie fame. Instead, Windle finds true mastery of his body for the first time, giving him super strength and super senses and probably a super odor from decay as well.

Meanwhile, Death decides to see the world and ends up in an out of the way mountain village where he goes to work for the ancient spinster Miss Flitworth doing--what else--harvesting with a scythe. For the first time Death discovers what it means to be alive, experiencing both the triumphs and tragedies of mortality.

Back in the metropolis of Ankh-Morpork, strange events are afoot. Without a Death, many other people are having the same trouble as Windle Poon, leading to disastrous consequences. Windle makes friends with a group of the undead that include a vampire, werewolf, and Bogeyman and finds himself at the epicenter of an invasion of snow globes that are the prelude to a far more dangerous enemy.

"Reaper Man" features more of Pratchett's wit and topical humor that make for an easy and fun read even if you're not really into fantasy--like myself. Really, if this book can't make you laugh then you need a funny bone transplant. Yet while it is humorous and fun, there's also a deepness and meaning to it all, which makes it a great book to read on multiple levels. If you can laugh and learn something that's the best of both worlds, right?

The last thirty pages or so of the book I thought were really excellent. It's the kind of ending that makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time. Finding an ending that powerful is pretty rare for me and so makes this book well worth reading. (5 stars)

Volume 12: Witches Abroad: Granny Weatherwax and the witches of Lancre are back, and this time hitting the road (or really the sky given they fly on broomsticks) to stop a royal wedding. The princess Ella is about to marry a Duc with clammy skin, weird eyes, and a predilection towards eating flies unless the witches can get there in time to stop the Happily Ever After. This is the kind of anti-fairy tale fairy tale in the same vein as the "Shrek" movies, though written years earlier. Besides "Cinderella" other fairy tales like "Little Red Riding Hood" are also referenced with hilarious results. The best part is what happens to Nanny Ogg's fiendish cat Greebo; I could imagine my cat would be nearly the same under similar circumstances. A fun romp through classic fairy tales. (4 stars)

Volume 13: Small Gods: This story doesn't involve any of the main characters (except for DEATH, who appears in every book) taking place in the realm of Omnia. The people there worship the Great God Om--usually depicted as a bull--with a fervor enforced by the sadistic Quisition, obviously based on the Spanish Inquisition. There's just one problem: the Great God Om is trapped in the body of a tortoise and finds himself with just one true believer: a small-witted novice monk named Brutha. This book touches on a theme presented earlier in "Pyramids" (and possibly other books) and notably later in "Hogfather" that says gods come and go based on changing beliefs. What Pratchett suggests isn't atheism; it's more like universal apathy saying whatever you choose to believe in is as good as anything. When you think no one can really prove which god(s) is God this makes a lot of sense; after all, who's to say your toaster can't be God if you really, really believe hard enough? I like too the Discworld concept that the afterlife is whatever you believe it will be, something touched on in "Eric" among others. This is a book for the open-minded on the subject, not the true believers. (4 stars)

Volume 14: Lords and Ladies: In my review of volumes 1-6 I posited that "Light Fantastic" was the only direct sequel in the series. This is not the case as "Lords and Ladies" picks up after "Witches Abroad" though really it continues the events of "Wyrd Sisters." Granny Weatherwax and crew have returned home and now it's time for the young witch Magrat to marry the king and become queen of Lancre. As people arrive from all over the Discworld, all heck is about to break loose when elves return to plague the land. These aren't the cute Santa's helpers or even the beautiful, noble creatures from "Lord of the Rings." No, these elves are psychotic, sadistic monsters intent on enslaving humanity. Because of this, the book has a darker tone than others in the series. It draws from "A Midsummer Night's Dream" which I've never seen, so like with "Wyrd Sisters" there's probably a few references I didn't catch. I was happy, though, my second-favorite character the Librarian got significant time in this book. As well, this book and "Witches Abroad" helped evolve the witch characters, fleshing out their personalities a bit more. I wasn't sold on Granny and the others in "Equal Rites" and "Wyrd Sisters" but I've started to enjoy them with these two books. (4 stars)

Volume 15: Men At Arms: Affirmative action comes to the corrupt metropolis of Ankh-Morpork when the city's leader, The Patrician, inducts a troll, a dwarf, and a female werewolf into the City Watch, Night division. The Night Watch used to be a joke, but after Corporal Carrot joined the force in "Guards! Guards!" the Watch became somewhat respectable and started actually doing work.

While the Watch is gaining three new recruits, it's losing its commander in Captain Sam Vimes. Formerly a drunk used to waking up in gutters, Vimes is now living the high life and about to marry Lady Ramkin, a wealthy swamp dragon trainer. Everything seems to be going well, except behind the scenes, someone wants to restore the monarchy to the throne.

To do this, the fiend plots to create a deadly new weapon: a gonne, which uses fireworks powder to shoot a lead slug into someone--or in other words, it's the Discworld's first gun. As racial violence between dwarves, trolls, humans, and undead heats up it's up to the Night Watch to save the day.

My problem in reading this book was I was distracted by other things, so I couldn't give it my full attention. The final solution to WHO is behind everything wasn't too obvious, which is a good thing. Like "Lords and Ladies" before it, this one had a darker tone with one central character being killed. It seemed odd to me that Corporal Carrot at the start of the book seems kind of dull-witted, but by the end he's outsmarting everyone, including a master manipulator like The Patrician. The more I got thinking about it, the more I realized Carrot is like Columbo in those old '70s mysteries. Only instead of going around in a rumpled trenchcoat and smoking cigars, he wears shiny chain mail. But the result is the same, where foes and friends grossly underestimate him until they realize they've answered "one more question" too many. (3 stars)

Volume 16: Soul Music: I was hoping to like this more than I did. DEATH--what we would think of as the Grim Reaper--is my favorite recurring character in the series, so I was hoping to really enjoy a book focusing more on him. But I didn't, in large part because "Soul Music" is much like "Moving Pictures" only instead of parodying the early film industry it parodies the early days of rock n roll--when it was actually rock n roll and not two hundred different sub categories.

Anyway, DEATH gets depressed and takes a sudden leave of absence. The job of making sure people die goes to his sixteen-year-old "granddaughter" Susan. She is the offspring of an orphan DEATH adopted and his former apprentice Mort, who got married in the earlier book aptly titled "Mort." While in many ways Susan is a normal girl, she also has the ability to will herself invisible and see things that no one else can, like a skeletal rat with a scythe that goes SQUEAK! As you'd expect Susan is no better at being DEATH than her father was, though not quite with as disastrous results.

Meanwhile, in Ankh-Morpork a bard named Imp arrives and wants to be the most famous musician ever, but can't afford to join the Musician's Guild to play legally. He joins up with a dwarf and troll and form a band. When Imp breaks his harp, the band discovers a music shop that has always been there, by which I mean it's NEVER been there and just suddenly turned up. Imp buys a guitar that seems to take on a life of its own. Before long, he and the others are playing a new kind of music they call Music With Rocks In, presumably because instead of drums the troll beats a sack of stones.

Music With Rocks In becomes a sensation, but for Imp--who takes the name Buddy--fame comes with a high pricetag.

What I didn't like, as I mentioned earlier, was much of this seemed derivative, as a combination of "Mort," "Reaper Man," and "Moving Pictures." At least Pratchett knew he was rehashing some of the same material, so he avoids duplicating those books exactly. Still, there was a definite feeling of "been there, done that." It was still an enjoyable read, but not a great one. (2 stars)

Volume 17: Interesting Times: the expression "May you live in interesting times" can be either a blessing or a curse. To Rincewind the wizard, it's definitely a curse. There's nothing more Rincewind would like more than to hide out somewhere safe and quiet with a large supply of potatoes. Unfortunately, Rincewind has the same kind of luck as Charlie Brown in kicking the football; whenever he thinks he's going to do it, someone pulls the football away.

This time, Rincewind is called upon by the other wizards at Unseen University to travel to the remote "Counterweight Continent" a region that has little contact with the rest of the Discworld when a hungry albatross arrives with a message requesting a "Great Wizard" be sent to the continent ASAP. Since there's no one more expendable for a dangerous mission, Rincewind is chosen to be teleported across thousands of miles, where he meets an old (literally) friend: Cohen the Barbarian. The ancient "hero" and his Silver Horde of six other old geezers are planning to mount a daring mission to steal something precious from the Empire ruling the continent.

Trying to avoid this suicide mission, Rincewind strikes out on his own, but is soon taken captive by the "Red Army", a group of teenagers who are good at plastering slogans on walls and little else. They believe Rincewind is The Great Wizard who will lead them to victory over the repressive empire.

As always happens when Rincewind is involved, his attempts to avoid trouble wind up leading him deeper into trouble and his attempts at being a coward wind up making him a hero. How this plays out was sort of predictable, but I've really come to identify with Rincewind, possessing about the same amount of "luck."

Though this isn't a sequel, there are references to the other Rincewind novels, including the reappearance of Twoflower the tourist, who first set Rincewind on the annoying path to adventure in the first two Discworld books. So there's a feeling like a class reunion in reading this that makes it fun to read. It's always good to reunite with old friends, even if they aren't real. (4 stars)

Volume 18: Maskerade: Last time we met them in "Lords and Ladies", the Lancre witches Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg were helping the third member of their coven become the queen of Lancre. Now that the coven is down to two, it's time to look for a replacement. As it happens, Nanny has a perfect replacement in mind. There's just one hitch: this person is hundreds of miles away in the metropolis of Ankh-Morpork trying to become an opera singer. No worries though as Nanny and Granny have an errand in the big city, mainly getting Nanny's fair share of royalties from the publishing of a scandalous cookbook.

Meanwhile, at the Ankh-Morpork Opera House strange things are afoot. For many years the Opera House has been haunted by a mask-wearing phantom, who generally likes to watch the first performance of any opera from a specially-reserved box. But now the Ghost has started murdering people and it's up to Granny and Nanny to put a stop to it.

Really, since most of the story focuses on murders in the city of Ankh-Morpork, I kept wondering why this wasn't a City Watch book instead of a Witches book. I suppose since much of the story is (probably) taken from "Phantom of the Opera" it's fitting for Granny and Nanny. I didn't like this as much as some of the other Witch books like "Witches Abroad" or "Lords and Ladies." For one thing the newest witch, Agnes Nitt, doesn't have much to her yet. She's very fat, has poor self-esteem, and a good voice. Not all that interesting really. As well some of the gags like the cat Greebo turning human had already been used, so there was some staleness as well. And really, the story seemed like it could have been a "Scooby-Doo" episode--Now we'll find out who you really are, Opera Ghost! (3 stars)

Volume 19: Feet of Clay: Maybe you're like me and never quite understood what a golem was, or at least I didn't until I saw a Simpsons Halloween episode featuring one--which is how I learn most everything. Anyway, in Judaism there's this idea of making big people out of clay and then a rabbi marks it with a symbol and it comes to life. It will do anything you tell it to do by putting scrolls in its mouth.

In the Discworld, golems are used like a cross between industrial robots and illegal aliens. Since a golem can work continuously without food or sleep it means less people are needed. And a golem can do all sorts of hazardous jobs like working with acids or other chemicals because they're extremely tough and never complain. Then one shop owner gets more than he bargained for when he buys a golem that goes off on a killing spree.

Meanwhile, the City Watch is expanding its operations. In "Maskerade" we learned about a new undercover unit and now in "Feet of Clay" comes a CSI unit, which consists of one female dwarf who works in an old privy. This comes in handy when someone begins poisoning The Patrician, Ankh-Morpork's leader. Commander Vimes, Captain Carrot, and the rest of the Watch have to put together the pieces before it's too late.

This was a really interesting book because the plight of the golems touches on serious issues. These issues are brought up again later in the series with "Going Postal" and presumably "Making Money." It's a good reminder that while the plots of these books seem outlandish, they bring up topics that are still in the news today. What really got me though were some great references to movies like "Terminator 2" and "Robocop." As well the mystery, or really conspiracy, wasn't so easy that I could figure it out, which is always a good thing in a book like this. There were a couple of times where I thought I had it figured out and turned out to be wrong, just like Vimes and company investigating the crimes. So it's a great crime story ripped from today's headlines as they say in "Law & Order" promos. And you can't beat the thought of a dwarf in drag. (4 stars)

Volume 20: Hogfather: In the fictional Discworld, which is carried by four elephants atop a giant turtle floating through space, what we would consider Christmas is known as Hogwatch. The jolly, bearded fat man in the red suit we would associate with Santa Claus is known as the Hogfather and drives a team of four boars instead of eight reindeer. This year, though, something has gone amiss--mainly the Hogfather himself--and so if the Hogfather looks as if he's lost a lot of weight it's because Death is standing in for him.

The plot itself for "Hogfather" sounds like one of those cheesy Christmas specials we used to see more of on television like "The Flintstones Save Christmas" or "Ernest Saves Christmas" or even "The Santa Clause" where some ordinary klutz has to fill in for Santa and bring toys and cheer to the good little boys and girls. But things are never that simple or straightforward in the Discworld. While the Grim Reaper is filling the Hogfather's boots, his "granddaughter" Susan goes in search of the Hogfather, which ultimately involves assassins and The Tooth Fairy. Meanwhile, at Unseen University, the school for wizards, strange things are happening like gods and fairies appearing out of thin air. (It makes slightly more sense when you read the book.)

The story centers not so much on "saving Christmas, er, Hogwatch" as on the nature of belief and how it changes over time. In particular is the concept of old gods serving new purposes. If you look back through history you can compare the roles of old gods like Zeus or Odin with the Christian God (or Jesus) or Hindu gods, and so forth. No matter the society or the religion humans have always had a need for belief in something, even if it's something ridiculous like a jolly fat man and a team of flying hogs.

There's a good moral as well in the story of Death learning to be Santa, er, Hogfather in that Christmas, er, Hogwatch doesn't always mean getting everything you want. Even as children a little disappointment is necessary to help us mature into adults. (You've seen what happens to people who get everything they want growing up with the Paris Hiltons of the world.)

So really what could have in lesser hands been rendered into a cheap, sappy Christmas special has been given far more meaning by Mr. Pratchett. Not to mention the book is hilarious and a breeze to read. Some of the things near the end were a little confusing, but overall this was a great read for the holidays. (4 stars)

Volume 21: Jingo: When an island rises from the ocean between the metropolis of Ankh-Morpork and the desert kingdom of Klatch, it's the impetus for war. There's just one slight problem, as Ankh-Morpork hasn't fought a war in centuries, content during that time to invite its enemies to come in and stay awhile, followed by robbing them blind in their sleep. Because of this, the city's gentry take to raising private armies, which includes Commander Vimes of the City Watch. As expected, his unit is composed of Watchmen like heroic Captain Carrot the "dwarf", Angua the werewolf, and Detritus the troll. They face a race against time to prevent an all-out war.

This was an interesting book in that it takes the City Watch out of the city. There's references to the JFK assassination and it's hard not to think of the desert kingdom of Klatch as Iraq, though this book was written in about 1997. Certainly the sentiment that war is good for absolutely nothing rings true these days, especially when the leaders fighting the war are dopes. (4 stars)

Volume 22: The Last Continent: Everyone's favorite cowardly wizard Rincewind returns for his last full-length adventure. At the end of "Intersting Times" Rincewind ended up on the continent XXXX (so called because no one else has ever gone there and returned). With his usual luck, Rincewind is embroiled in an adventure against his wishes when this barren continent runs out of water. A helpful kangaroo helps him find his way through this strange desert continent where everyone says things like "G'day!" and "no worries" and drinks lots of beer. At the same time the orangutan Librarian of Unseen University is sick, so the school's top wizards go in search of Rincewind, as he's the only one who knows the Librarian's real name. In the process, the wizards end up stranded in time on a remote island with a god who is far from omnipotent. Somehow this all ties together.

One of the running jokes in the second half of the book is that a lot of ideas sound better after midnight and copious amounts of alcohol. This book would be best read in that state. It's not that it's not fun or interesting; it just doesn't make a lot of sense--even less sense than most Discworld books make. There are references to Australian-themed movies like "Mad Max," "Priscilla Queen of the Desert," and "Crocodile Dundee" that work best if you've seen those. I was disappointed there wasn't a "shrimp on the barby" reference. No worries! I'd recommend this one only for Discworld completists. (2 stars)

Volume 23: Carpe Jugulum: Long before "Twilight" made vampires cool again, the witches of Lancre were battling the bloodsuckers. That proves difficult as these aren't your father's vampires; these are far more enlightened vampires (so to speak) who have learned to tolerate garlic, holy water, and even a little sunlight. When the king of Lancre invites the Magpyre clan for the christening of his daughter, the vampires decide they'll make themselves at home by taking over the kingdom and making everyone into docile sheeple.

The witches of Lancre won't stand for this, but there's just one problem: the most powerful of their coven, Granny Weatherwax, is missing and presumed sulking after her invitation to the christening gets lost. Led by the folksy Nanny Ogg, the other witches do what they can against the vampires with the help of the Wee Free Men (think Scottish Smurfs), a missionary from Omnia (think a Jehovah's Witness combined with a televangelist), and an Igor (think Dr. Frankenstein's assistant). But of course the vampires aren't going to go quietly or without some blood being shed.

Though the plot is largely the same as "Lords and Ladies" where elves terrorized Lancre, there's enough different about this so that it feels fresh. Like "Lords and Ladies" this is a little darker than previous witch adventures like "Maskerade", which I guess you should expect with vampires. For fans of "Twilight" there is a sort of romance with the sexy young vampire Vlad and Agnes, a fat young witch with a touch of schizophrenia. But really it was refreshing for me after all this "Twilight" and assorted other stuff to read something where the vampires are the bad guys.

One criticism I have is that there's a lot of stuff going on in the story and at the end it seemed like some of it didn't do a whole lot. It's like assembling a puzzle and realizing you have pieces left over. In particular the Wee Free Men angle didn't add a whole lot and while it was nice to have Magrat (formerly a witch but now the queen) back in the fold, she didn't do much either other than change diapers. When's all said and done though I think Granny Weatherwax is up to third on favorite Discworld characters list behind The Librarian and DEATH, so any book with her kicking vampire butt can't be too bad. (4 stars)

Volume 24: The Fifth Elephant: The Discworld is held up by four elephants on top of a giant space turtle. But long ago legend has it there was a fifth elephant. That elephant fell off the edge though and slammed into the ground, creating mountains and most notably, large reservoirs of fat. It's this fat that the city of Ankh-Morpork wants to obtain cheaply for making candles and frying things. And so the city dispatches Duke Samuel Vimes, also commander of the City Watch, to make a deal with the dwarves who mine the fat.

The last Discworld book I read "Carpe Jugulum" dealt with vampires. This book also has vampires, but more prominently features werewolves and dwarves who run the remote nation of Uberwald, where all that fat can be found. As always happens when Vimes is involved, people are murdered and there are mysteries to be solved. In particular is the mystery of the royal dwarf throne known as the Scone of Stone--as the name implies it is a baked good that is very ancient and thus very hard. If the Scone of Stone isn't found, the entire kingdom could tear itself apart in civil war.

Meanwhile, in Ankh-Morpork the City Watch faces its biggest challenge yet when career sergeant Colon is forced to run things. A word to the wise: if someone's been a sergeant for 30 years there's probably a really good reason for that.

On a side note, this book also introduces the "clacks" the semaphore towers that allow one part of the Discworld to communicate with another in hours instead of days. This is the Discworld equivalent of cellphones and the Internet. The "clacks" technology later becomes a major issue in "Going Postal."

Though there is that mystery involved, a lot of book involves action as Vimes becomes a fugitive from the dwarves and the werewolves. Because of that the book is a very quick and exciting read. And maybe werewolves aren't as in vogue right now as vampires, but they're pretty fun too. (4 stars)

Volume 25: The Truth: It's important to note that in the Discworld, newspapers have never existed. The engravers guild, in order to preserve their monopoly on printing, preventing anyone from using a mechanical press. That is until a group of dwarfs arrive from the mountains yearning to make money by printing.

Along comes young William de Worde, a prodigal aristocrat whose broken from his wealthy father to make it on his own. When William visits the printing shop, he finds himself plunged into the new world of journalism. Together with a proper young lady named Sacharissa, they set out to create the Disc's first newspaper called the Times.

As luck would have it, just as they're starting out, a huge story breaks. The metropolis of Ankh-Morpork's leader, The Patrician, is accused of stabbing his clerk with a knife and then trying to flee the city with embezzled funds. The City Watch is baffled by the case, but William soon finds a "man" on the inside, the mysterious Deep Bone. Aided by Sacharissa, the dwarfs, and a vampire photographer (on the wagon, meaning he only drinks animal blood) who turns to dust if he uses flash photography, William is determined to get to the bottom of things. But the truth isn't always so easy to set free, especially when hired goons are trying to kill you.

This was a good addition to the series, but it could have been better. When I first read the description, I thought for sure there'd be some Citizen Kane references in there. I was expecting William to be one of those larger-than-life type characters like Charlie Kane and his real world counterpart William Randolph Hearst. That never materialized, which is disappointing. Instead William is an earnest young man in search of The Truth, which is OK too, but don't we all like more grandiose characters?

There are some good insights into what makes the news, especially in the comparison between the Times and its rival The Inquirer--which despite its name is more based on Weekly World News. As the Deep Bone indicates there are references to Watergate and also the hired goons Mr. Pin and Mr. Tulip are based on the killers in Pulp Fiction, as evidenced by the line, "Do you know what they call a sausage-inna-bun in Klatch?"

On a side note, this story probably was the template for the later Going Postal, the first in the series I read. That involved the creation--resurrection really--of the post office in a similar fashion. Though the central character of that one, Moist von Lipwig, was more interesting. Conmen are just more exciting than conflicted aristocrats.

And that's all the news fit to print. (4 stars)

Volume 26: Thief of Time: Mostly, this felt the same as other Discworld books I'd read (ie, "Moving Pictures," "Reaper Man," and "Soul Music") where some seemingly innocuous thing created by some fringe character threatens to destroy the universe until a ragtag bunch of non-heroes band together to stop it.

In this case, Jeremy Clockson is an orphan adopted by the Clockmaker's Guild who is obsessive about making accurate clocks. A strange but beautiful woman named Lady LeJean comes into his shop one day with the challenge to make the Ultimate Clock. Jeremy takes this on with the help of his rented Igor and some inspiration from his dreams for a glass clock.

Unbeknownst to Jeremy, this has already been done before and the fallout required the mysterious History Monks to patch Time back together into something resembling a plausible reality. Sweeper Lu Tse was the one who nearly stopped the last clock and vows to stop it this time with the help of his new assistant Lobsang Ludd. Meanwhile, Death realizes the universe will end on Wednesday and is preparing for the Apocalypse by rounding up the other three Horsemen: Pestilence, Famine, and War in a style reminiscent of the "Blues Brothers." In the meantime he tasks his "granddaughter" Susan to look into what will bring an end to life as we know it.

All these different plot threads come together fairly well in the end as all our non-heroes battle the bureaucratic Auditors for the fate of the universe. Still, as I said, even though I've only read four of these it felt like I'd read most of this before with only the specifics changed. I suppose when you write as many of these as Pratchett has it's easy to fall into a formula, albeit an enjoyable formula. (3 stars)

Volume 27: The Last Hero: this picture book in some ways is the Discworld equivalent of one of those reference movies (Date Movie, Disaster Movie, Superhero Movie, ad nauseum) in that it makes references to nearly all the major characters in the Discworld universe, except for the Witches of Lancre. The City Watch, Rincewind, the other wizards, DEATH all make appearances here.

What brings them all together is Cohen the Barbarian. The first hero stole fire from the gods, so now that Cohen is getting on in years, he decides that he'll return the fire. So along with his Silver Horde of veteran heroes, he undertakes a harrowing journey to the mountain that houses the Discworld gods. The only problem is that if he succeeds, the entire Discworld will collapse on itself and be destroyed.

To save the world the failed wizard (and professional coward) Rincewind joins up with heroic Captain Carrot of the Watch, mad genius designer Leonard da Quirm, and the Librarian of Unseen University to mount an expedition to intercept Cohen. Using a fleet of dragons and a wooden bird, they plan to sail beneath the Discworld and come out the other side to reach Cohen in time. But will they? (Well since there were more than a half-dozen books after this do you need an answer?)

Despite this being a picture book it's not exactly kid's stuff. There's a very real message here about people's relationship to gods and the struggles of getting older. Still, it's not heavy enough to bring you down. In general this is a fun little book, and it's great for fans to be able to see some of the major characters, not to mention what this entire odd little world looks like. I can't really critique the art because I can't do anything more than stick figures myself. I didn't really have any problems with it though. (4 stars)

Volume 28 "The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents" is one of the four young adult books in the series that I will not be reading at this time.

Volume 29: Night Watch: In the 28 other Discworld books a lot of sci-fi/fantasy staples have already been lampooned: heroic quests, magic swords, wizards, witches, vampires, werewolves, elves, and so forth. The one staple not yet really tackled has been time travel. "Night Watch" takes care of this glaring error in relatively entertaining style.

As his wife is involved in a long labor to give birth to their first child, Commader Sam Vimes of the City Watch is involved in cornering a cop-killing madman named Carcer. In hot pursuit of Carcer, Vimes climbs up onto the roof of the library for Unseen University (the school for wizards) during a thunderstorm. When a bolt of lightning strikes the library, Vimes and Carcer are transported back in time 30 years.

And of course it is a pivotal moment in the history of the metropolis of Ankh-Morpork. The brutal Lord Winder has been heavily taxing people and rounding up any who dissent. Revolt is fermenting, all it needs is a spark.

Vimes takes on the identity of his mentor in the City Watch, John Keel, after the real Keel is killed by Carcer, who joins a secret police force known as the Unmentionables. Vimes has enough time to teach his younger self a few lessons about policing before that spark hits and the entire city erupts in violence. Now Vimes has to somehow keep the peace, keep himself (both of himselves) alive, and bring Carcer to justice. A tall order to be sure.

This book is an interesting addition to the series because it provides a little more background on some of the Ankh-Morpork characters like Vimes, Lord Vetinari, Nobby Nobbs, and even Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler the crooked merchant. I was disappointed there was really nothing included about the wizards, especially the Librarian--who was turned into an orangutan in a magical accident; I kept waiting to see if there'd be an appearance by him in human form.

My biggest complaint though is the story drags a little. Part of that is the nature of time travel stories like this. We already know there's going to be a riot because technically it's already happened. And we know in that riot there's going to be a final showdown between Vimes and Carcer, just like you knew Marty McFly would have to have it out with Biff Tannen in "Back to the Future." It's inevitable, so let's just cut to the chase.

Still, like most of these books, there's a good message underneath the action. In particular is the concept that the reason they're called "revolutions" is that they typically go in a circular fashion. Or in other words the new regime is rarely better than the old one. The main point of reference in the book is the French Revolution, only in this case no one loses their heads--literally at least. (4 stars)

Volume 30 "The Wee Free Men" is one of the four young adult books in the series that I will not be reading at this time.

Volume 31: Monstrous Regiment: In the remote country of Borogravia, war is the national pasttime. The problem is that lately Borogravia has been as successful at war as the Detroit Lions are at football. Like desperate countries everywhere, though, they claim they're winning, despite the evidence to the contrary.

Because of all this war, villages are pretty much down to the elderly, children, and women. One of these women named Polly Perks decides to cut off her hair and join the army so she can find her brother Paul, who disappeared years earlier in the war with neighboring Zlobenia. She soon joins a regiment (really more of a squad) with other young people including a pyromaniac, a potential psychopathic killer, and schizophrenic, as well as a troll, a vampire, and an Igor--the latter being one of those hunchbacked assistants to mad scientists everywhere.

Though of course Borogravia is winning the war (wink, wink) there's no time to train the new recruits in warfare. But before they can get to the front, they come under attack from Zlobenian forces. Polly uses all her cunning to defeat the enemy, but from then on this monstrous regiment is on the run. Their only hope is to retake their country's stronghold and free the prisoners inside, including Polly's brother. To do so, though requires the regiment to put themselves in great danger from the enemy--and their own superior officers.

In "Jingo" Pratchett took on war from the perspective of the invader. Now in "Monstrous Regiment" it focuses mostly on the defender. The key point is that Polly and the other Borogrovians are not bad or evil. They're just doing their job and defending their country--and each other. It's the ones in charge, like the insane god Nuggan or the never-seen Duchess, who are the bad ones. That's good to remember because in any war there's a tendency to demonize the other side so that they seem like demons instead of real people. Otherwise it would be hard for a country to want to go to war and kill other humans not so different from them.

Though I'm sure this was unintentional, the conflict between Lieutenant Blouse and Sergeant Jackrum reminded me of Mailer's "The Naked and the Dead." In both the inexperienced young officer thinks he's in charge while the sergeant thinks he should be the REAL boss because of his experience and the officer should just be a figurehead. Things go much better for the lieutenant in this book though.

While Borogravia and Zlobenia sound more like the Balkans, there are references to the second Iraq war with the term "shock and awe" and the concept of embedded reporters. That allows readers to easily relate to the story, despite the presence of fantasy elements. William de Worde and Otto the vampire photographer of "The Truth" (Volume 25) make a cameo as the aforementioned embedded reporters while Sam Vimes and members of the City Watch also appear in the story.

The one knock I have on this book is one that I've had on a couple other of the Discworld ones. Sure there's a vampire, troll, and Igor in the regiment but they don't really contribute much to overall story. Actually the vampire and troll sit out most of the conclusion. Other than the vampire's jitteriness at needing coffee (to keep him from draining people's blood) that allows for a couple of Vietnam allusions predating "Tropic Thunder", he doesn't do much and the troll does less. At least the Igor serves as the medic. They could easily have not been in the book and it wouldn't have affected the story much. The example I used before was it's like having a few pieces left over after putting together a jigsaw. The pyro, schizo, and even the psycho all have their uses in the story, but the most monstrous characters seem just there to make the jacket sound more interesting. A pity.

Still, this is a good book with humor that doesn't dumb-down it's very non-humorous subject matter.

Join me now in a verse of "War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothin'!" (4 stars)

Volume 32 "A Hat Full of Sky" is one of the four young adult books in the series that I will not be reading at this time.

Volume 33: Going Postal: the book begins with Moist von Lipwig (his real name) being hung for various misdeeds committed throughout his long career as a con artist. But Moist does not die. Instead, he's offered by the local tyrant Lord Vetinari the job of running the decrepit post office system in the metropolis of Ankh-Morpork. Since the alternative is death, Moist takes the job as postmaster.

He soon discovers that death might have been preferable because the post office is a complete mess. Mail has been piled up to the point that most of the building in inaccessible. All the post office workers have fled except for "junior" postman Groat (who is an old man) and his dim-witted, pin-collecting sidekick Stanley--and Mr. Tiddles the cat. Much of the post office's decline is due to the new communications system known as "the clacks" which are towers using a sort of Morse code to send messages all over the Discworld in hours. With such instant communication possible, who needs to send a letter?

After Moist's attempt to escape from this job is thwarted by his golem bodyguard Mr. Pump, Moist decides to face up to the challenge of making the post office competitive. Falling back on his years as a con artist, Moist begins to generate public excitement by introducing a new invention called stamps. And wouldn't you know it, soon people are collecting these stamps, including Stanley. Moist's efforts are aided by saboteurs who want to shut down the clacks to put the greedy bankers who bought the clacks system from its naive inventors out of business.

As the post office begins to succeed, Moist expands his operations by hiring more golem workers from the very inappropriately-named Miss Adora Belle Dearheart. In typical fashion for this kind of story, Moist falls in love with Miss Dearheart and begins to take his post office job seriously. But the greedy owners of the clacks don't like competition and will do anything to put Moist out of commission for good.

This really is a very fun read and its messages about technology and corporate greed are pretty much pulled from today's headlines. What makes the book so great to read is that there is a serious message, but the story itself is never told in such a serious way to make it a drag. So you can have a good time and a few laughs and also learn a few things. What else could you ask for from a book? Well, there are one or two things, but let's not be too picky. (4 stars)

Volume 34: Thud!: I feel the book's title needs an explanation. Thud is a game sort of like chess combined with Risk or Stratego that's played by trolls and dwarfs on the Discworld. The object of the game is to reenact the legendary battle of Koom Valley, in which dwarfs and trolls fought each other over a thouand years earlier. There's been bad blood (or whatever trolls have) between the two races ever since.

And thud is also the sound made when a troll club whacks a dwarf over the head. That dwarf is a rabble-rouser in the metropolis of Ankh-Morpork who has been rallying dwarfs to fight trolls on the eve of Koom Valley Day. The murder takes place deep underground in a dwarf mine, which complicates things for Sam Vimes and the City Watch, as the dwarfs are not keen on outsiders wandering around their mine.

The murder is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg, though. Even as the whole city seems ready to explode, a strange dwarf sign begins cropping up all over the place. As well, a priceless painting of the battle of Koom Valley has disappeared from the city museum. Somehow Vimes has to put all these pieces together to find out who murdered the dwarf--and why. Oh, and he has to do it all by six o'clock when he must read Where's My Cow? to his infant son--with all the appropriate noises.

This installment of the series I take it was supposed to be like The Da Vinci Code (or a lesser extent the National Treasure movies) in that there's a murder that leads to the unraveling of an important historical mystery. While I think overall Pratchett is a much better writer, Brown's story probably moved along a little better; Thud seems to plod along until an ending that generally makes it worthwhile. It probably needed a couple of good chase scenes thrown in there to get things moving.

One problem I had in particular was I really became bored with the Angua werewolf character. This is the fifth book that features her in a significant role, but all she ever seems to do is whine about being a werewolf--that and smell stuff and threaten to rip people's throats out. By now it's like, "I GET IT! Being a werewolf sucks! Let's move past it, shall we?" But that's the problem is that none of the secondary characters are really allowed to grow much. The relationship between Angua and Captain Carrot hasn't really moved forward since the beginning. You'd think after what's probably ten years or more they'd be getting serious, or something.

Vimes is the only character who seems to be given any development. Since appearing in "Guards! Guards!" (volume 8) he's gone from a lonely drunk to a civic leader with a wife and son. That kind of growth is what allows you to like the character more, not to mention it keeps him from stagnating like the others. It's too bad some of the others (like Angua or Carrot) aren't really given this same opportunity to develop.

Anyway, it was still an entertaining book, with a good message about racial tolerance and all that. And as I said earlier, it picks up in the end to make up for some of its deficiencies in the thrill department. It really could use a better title, though if you look at all 36 series titles, none of them really seem especially clever. I suppose it's what's on the inside that counts--isn't that what they always say?

Volume 35 "Wintersmith" is one of the four young adult books in the series that I will not be reading at this time.

Volume 36: Making Money: At last we come to the end, at least until October when the next volume in the Discworld series comes out. For now though, I've read all of the adult Discworld novels in the series, concluding with "Making Money" the second installment to feature conman Moist von Lipwig.

Last time we saw Moist in "Going Postal" he was charged with resurrecting the post office in the metropolis of Ankh-Morpork and in the process found himself going straight. A little time has gone by since then, with Moist still engaged to golem rights advocate Adora Belle Dearhardt and managing the post office efficiently. A little too efficiently really, as Moist has the itch for his old criminal ways that he scratches by breaking into his office at night and picking every possible lock in the place. Fortunately the city's uncontested tyrant Lord Vetinari has a solution: he wants Moist to take over the Royal Bank and shake up the system to meet modern times.

Now here is where we have to branch out into the hypothetical story on the book jacket and what actually happens.

On the book jacket it sounds like Moist is going to take over the bank and start printing paper money. Until then the city has relied on the gold standard, using a variety of coins for its money. By introducing paper money and taking Ankh-Morpork off the gold standard, he makes new enemies and runs into dangerous situations.

What actually happens is that probably a quarter of the book is spent just getting Moist into the bank and introducing all the key players like Mr. Bent, the manager who can add pages of numbers with only a glance and worships gold like a god, and the Lavish family who run the bank, especially Cosmo, who wants to make himself into Lord Vetinari. At the same time, Adora and her Golem Trust have found some ancient golems, who make things very interesting. The rest of the story involves an audit and recriminations about missing gold-and the golems. As for the paper money, it doesn't come along until the very last chapter of the book.

So like one of Moist's customers for cheap diamond rings, I feel a bit cheated here. This wasn't exactly the book I thought I was going to read. Admittedly it still is a fun read, but I kept thinking, "When are we going to get to the money? WHEN?" The actual running of the bank, the story promised on the jacket, seems like it's going to happen off the pages. No matter how good the rest of the book is, it's hard not to feel disappointed by that. Though I suppose a conman like Moist can't be any more outrageous than the Lavish family who were running the bank.

What saves this book for me, and made me really, REALLY want to give it four stars against all reason, is that I like the Moist character. Having now read the entire series, he reminds me mostly of Rincewind the cowardly wizard. Like Rincewind, Moist is that breed of noble coward who doesn't want to help anyone but seems to end up doing so anyway. Whereas Rincewind achieved this by running away from danger, Moist does it by using his very persuasive mouth. That's what makes them both fun antiheroes, unlike those brave, strapping heroes in most fantasy novels. And for personal reasons the idea of accountants traveling around like gypsies has me laughing so hard I needed an Igor to stitch me back together. So overall it's not a bad addition to the series (and provided Pratchett's health holds up long enough he's already sown the seeds for a third Moist adventure) but there have been better among these 36 volumes.

And that does it. Overall I have greatly enjoyed this series because not only are the books a lot of fun, but there's a lot of wisdom to be garnered from them as well. Even "Making Money" seems ripped from today's headlines with all the trouble in the real banking system. To do smart and funny takes a special talent and Pratchett is indeed very talented. (3 stars)

That is all.

Volume 37: Unseen Academicals: In the "Star Trek: The Next Generation" series there was an episode called "Lower Decks" that focused on a group of young people serving in minor positions on the Enterprise instead of the usual group of head honchos. That is essentially what happens in "Unseen Academicals" which focuses on the people who work in the Night Kitchen and the candle vats of Unseen University, the school for wizards in the city of Ankh-Morpork.

Ostensibly though the book is about the game of foot-the-ball or football (or soccer as we call it across the Pond). In Ankh-Morpork, the game of foot-the-ball is actually more like rugby, with a lot of tackling and fighting and very little scoring. Young Trevor Likely's father was a legend because he scored 4 goals.

Trevor works in the candle vats of Unseesn University with Nutt, a very learned goblin who talks like a shelf of self-help books. Nutt has a Mysterious Past that not even he remembers. Eventually though Trev and Nutt go up to the Night Kitchen, where they meet the plain, fat Glenda and the beautiful, ditzy Juliet.

As it happens Juliet is from the Stoops family, who are sworn enemies of Trev's family because of their foot-the-ball allegiances. Trev & Juliet doesn't play out like Romeo & Juliet because tragedy is not ever really on the menu in the Discworld. Nutt does a little Cyrano in writing a poem to help woo Juliet, which would work better if Juliet could read words of more than one syllable.

Oh yes, there is a football game in there too. The wizards of Unseen University discover that they have to play a game of football in order to keep a bequest that keeps their Night Kitchen stocked. (If there's one thing wizards really like it's their kitchen.) When some new old rules are "discovered" from a museum, a new brand of foot-the-ball is born with Nutt taking the lead as coach.

This book utilizes two recurring theme-like items in the Discworld series. One is equal rights/tolerance, which is embodied by Nutt. Goblins (or what Nutt really is) being the latest in a line that includes dwarfs, trolls, werewolves, vampires, and golems who break the racial barrier in Ankh-Morpork. The other theme-like substance is modernizing the city. The police force, post office, bank, and Unseen University itself have all been dramatically remodeled since the earliest Discworld novels. As well football joins other modern things like newspapers, movies, the Internet, and rock music to become part of the fabric of Disc society. So really while the book is entertaining (as most Discworld books are) it's not anything fans of the series haven't really seen before.

What bugged me about the previous book "Making Money" was that there was no money made in it; the actual printing of money seemed like it would be taking place off the pages. I feared that Pratchett was going to do the same here and have the football game take place off the page, but he does at least manage to get it in, even if it is a bit underwhelming. While it was nice to see Rincewind (with a cameo by The Luggage) and the Librarian again, I wish they could have been used more.

That the book doesn't focus on any of the major characters in the end means that this can be filed away as "Minor Discworld" along with one-offs like "Pyramids," "Small Gods," "The Truth," and "Monstrous Regiment." Since football (soccer) hooliganism isn't a big thing here in the States, I'm sure some of the jokes in this one went over my head; British readers would then probably enjoy this more.

Still, it's not a bad entry in the series, but not an overly important one either. You could do a lot worse. (4 stars)

Volume 38: I Shall Wear Midnight is another YA book that I will not be reviewing at this time...

This Companion will be updated with any future installments or if I feel like reading the YA ones.

The Skyfire Adventures

2007-06-16T17:28:00.000-07:00

Author's Note: Written in 1996, this is the original fanfic that began the series. It's actually a crossover with the old "Doom" series of games. Basically I decided to pit Beast Wars Transformers against the Doom baddies. This is the result.

There are a couple of continuity errors here because this was written in the first season of the show. Some of the assumptions I made about the time/place of the show and the whereabouts of the Autobot Matrix turned out to be false in future seasons. Oh well.

The Skyfire Adventures:

Our Darkest Hour

Prologue

Darkness faded quickly into a blinding flash of light. The light slowly focused through newborn eyes that had suddenly flickered open. Then the rest of the body began to move slowly, experimentally. Finally, the mouth opened and groaned as the body within the coffin-like object sat up. When it had sat up, it saw that it was not alone. Some kind of white and black-striped creature was standing just outside of the black object it was sitting inside.

The brain struggled to comprehend what was going on, its processors slowly gaining speed after its long slumber. Finally, it identified the creature as a tiger, a rare white tiger from the looks of it. With this discovery, memories began resurfacing, until finally the brain had pieced together what had happened. "You have awakened, that is good," the tiger said. The brain stopped, surprised. It did not remember tigers being able to talk.

"Who are you and where am I?" The mouth demanded to know, hoping that exchanging vocal transmissions with the tiger would find the answers the brain needed to make sense of the situation.

"I am Tigatron, a Maximal like yourself. Where we are, I am unsure of. Tigatron, Maximize!" The tiger suddenly transformed into a large robot. Now things made sense to the brain. "Who are you?"

"I am..." The brain searched for a response. After a few long seconds, it was able to reply, "I am Skyfire."

"Skyfire? Very interesting. You must hurry and transform to beast mode before the energon fields damage your circuitry."

"All right. Beast mode." Unsure of what would happen, Skyfire was surprised when his arms and legs folded up and wings unfurled. He briefly ran his form through his database of creatures and identified it as an eagle, a bald eagle. He perched himself on the edge of the thing he had been lying in, a stasis pod as he recalled.

"Excellent, now we must hurry to base. Beast mode," Tigatron said as he transformed back into a tiger. Then he began running away from the pod. Skyfire shrugged mentally and let out a cry as he spread his wings and took flight. Below him, he could see the abandoned stasis pod, and a nest of eagles nearby. The pod was teetering on the edge of a cliff, the nest not more than a few feet from it. That the pod had landed safely at all was surprising. He swooped down until he was only a couple of feet above Tigatron.

"What's going on? Why do we have to hurry back to base?"

"Because the universe will be destroyed if we do not!" Tigatron replied. Skyfire gulped, a chill running through his feathers.

Chapter One - Descent

"The universe? How is that possible?" Skyfire questioned.

"During the Great War, a horde of evil creatures invaded Cybertron and nearly took it over. Eventually, one brave Autobot named Ambush was able to sweep the planet of this plague and destroy the teleportation device they were using for their invasion. For over a century no one had seen anything more of these creatures, until about thirty years ago."

"Then they were sighted on the colony world of Erva Prime. The colony was overrun and a beachhead was set up on this world. What the aliens hoped to do, no one is certain. A Maximal special forces operative named Outfox was able to clear the colony and destroy the intelligence that was coordinating the aliens on the colony. Again they disappeared."

"Only hours ago they invaded our base. A horde of half-robotic, half-organic beings descended upon my comrades. It was a slaughter. I was out on a scouting patrol in the northern sector and received a panicked transmission from Rhinox, the ship's chief engineer. He was barely functioning, but with his last strength he told me that these aliens had appeared inside the base and blasted anyone trying to resist them with torrents of plasma weapons and missiles. Then they grabbed our leader, Optimus Primal, and disappeared into some kind of dimensional portal. Rhinox was able to keep the portal open, which is why we must hurry to the base, before the portal closes once more. I was on my way back when your stasis pod crashed on the nearby cliff. Now that there are two of us, we stand a better chance of succeeding," Tigatron explained.

"Succeeding at what?"

"At retrieving Optimus Primal from wherever he was taken."

"Why?"

"Few know it, but Optimus Primal possesses the most powerful object in the universe: the Autobot Matrix of Leadership."

"The Matrix?" Skyfire echoed in awe. "But I thought the Matrix was lost during the Great War?"

"That story was circulated during the war to fool Decepticon intelligence. After the war ended, and the Autobots disbanded, the Matrix was passed to Optimus, the most senior Maximal for safe-keeping. Now that he is captured, the Matrix is in the hands of the aliens."

"How do you know so much about this? I was an Autobot and I never heard any of this."

"I knew none of it. However, Rhinox was a close friend to Optimus. His final words were: 'The Matrix still exists. Optimus has it.' The rest I deduced from simple logic," Tigatron responded as the Maximal base came in sight. It looked perfectly normal from what Skyfire could see; there were no blast marks or missile holes along the hull. "Sentinel, stand down." The defensive shield collapsed around the base and the two Maximals got onto the boarding platform that lowered. It retracted, and instantly the pair was plunged into darkness.

Tigatron activated the emergency lights, and Skyfire could see a picture from his own worst nightmares. The blasted bodies of the Maximal defenders were strewn about the command center in pieces. Skyfire transformed and picked up the head of one of them. Its eyes were black and half of its orange face was blown off. Skyfire dropped the head in horror. "This is terrible," he stammered.

"Yes. I knew all of them. Sadly, we cannot grieve for them now. We must hurry to the portal," Tigatron motioned to a faint, blue, glowing circle near the restoration chamber. He ran over to it and stuck his hand into it, then pulled it back out quickly. "Good, it is still operational. Come, Skyfire, we must go to wherever they have taken Optimus." With that, Tigatron jumped through the portal. Skyfire took one last look at the base. He saw the only intact body, that of Rhinox, lying on the floor near a console. He shook his head in sadness and then jumped into the portal.

***

Blue mist was spinning all around Skyfire, and he thought that he was going to die. He couldn't see Tigatron and wondered where he was. A flash of white blinded him suddenly, and then he hit something solid. He groaned in pain and then shook his head to clear it. He saw Tigatron lying nearby, also recovering from the rough landing. Skyfire pulled out his laser rifle and swept the area with it. Seeing none of the aliens, he lowered it and helped Tigatron to his feet. "Where are we?"

"I have no idea," Tigatron replied. The ground they were standing on was rough, brownish rock, and a forest of dead, black trees surrounded them.

"I'll go up and see what I can see. Beast mode," Skyfire suggested and flew swiftly above the trees. He looked about him and could see mountains in the distance, shrouded by smoke. Hot streams of lava were coming off of them, and the sky around him was bright red. It's like some kind of nightmare world, he thought to himself.

"Skyfire, I'm under attack! You'd better get down here quickly!" Tigatron called and Skyfire began swooping back down to where his comrade was. He could see brown creatures assailing Tigatron from all sides, hurling fireballs. Tigatron was returning fire, but Skyfire knew he would soon be overwhelmed.

"Skyfire, Maximize!" Skyfire snapped up his laser cannon and began firing. It wasn't hard to hit the creatures; there were so many of them. He landed next to Tigatron and continued firing into masses of the alien creatures. One of the fireballs hit him and singed off a patch of feathers, but did no further damage. After what seemed like hours of slaughter, the ranks of the creatures thinned, and finally they retreated. "Their weapons weren't too effective."

"No, these must be to wear us down before the larger ones come in for the kill."

"Do you know where Optimus would be?"

"No idea. What did you see?"

"Miles of dead trees, but there is a lot of volcanic activity a few miles from here. Seems like the best place to look."

"Yes. Let's just hope that we can make it there."

"We have to, the universe is counting on it."

Chapter Two - The Devil's Temple

Tigatron ran through the strange forest, dodging fireballs as he did so. Another wave of the brown creatures, combined with weird, pig-like, pink things was hot on his trail. Skyfire circled above him in robot mode, firing his weapon now and then to try and stop the enemy. "This isn't working!" Skyfire called out.

"Just leave me and find Optimus," Tigatron responded.

"No way. I need your help, there's no way I can do it alone."

"You may not have a choice. My legs can't take much more of this."

"Then I'll just have to end this chase." With that, Skyfire landed near Tigatron and leveled his gun. Instead of aiming at the aliens, he blasted a couple of trees, which collapsed and formed a barrier between the Maximals and the creatures. "Keep moving, I'll take care of them." Tigatron seemed to want to argue the point, but he shook his head and continued running. The tiger faded out of sight, leaving Skyfire by himself. He put his rifle away and looked for some branches. He grabbed two of them and began to rub them together furiously. He could hear the aliens gnawing and clawing at the fallen trees. "Just one more second..."

A spark leapt out and hit the downed trees. Slowly, they began to burn. Skyfire smiled and then set the branches down. Then he opened up his arm casing and disconnected a line that contained servo fluids. Liquid began dripping out and he put his finger over part of the opening, causing it to spray onto the trees. The fire intensified tenfold and a howl rose as the aliens began to burn. Skyfire continued to spray the fluid onto other nearby trees . After several of these were saturated, he reconnected the line, noticing that his left arm was moving slower. I'll need to put some more fluid in when I get back, he through wryly and transformed. He took a branch between his claws and stuck it into the fire, careful not to light himself on fire in the process. The branch began to burn and he climbed higher into the air before dropping the torch into the trees. There was a whoosing of air, and then a wall of flame ignited and swept the aliens, who were charging through the flaming trees. Then Skyfire headed to find Tigatron. He found the tiger at the edge of the forest, jumping from rock-to-rock across vast lava floes. He reached a narrow bridge that seemed to lead to some kind of passage. As he began to cross, a large alien appeared on the other side. Its upper half was pink and its lower was brown. It roared ferociously and a green ball of flame shot from its hand.

Tigatron transformed and ducked, the fireball just missing him. Skyfire could see that the bridge was too narrow to allow Tigatron to maneuver, he had to stop the creature, fast. He went to robot mode and pulled out his laser rifle. He had to aim carefully; a stray shot could collapse the entire bridge. He put his rifle away and landed right in front of the creature. It blindly took a swing at him, but Skyfire ducked and came up with his right fist nailing the alien in the face. It took the hit squarely, without budging a millimeter. Skyfire took a step back in surprise, then with grim determination he kicked it in the midsection. The alien didn't budge. It seemed to almost smile playfully at the Maximal, then its arm began to move to throw a fireball. Skyfire was quicker in grabbing his rifle and shooting the thing's arm off. The bloody appendage fell into the lava and evaporated. The alien roared in pain, but a shot from Tigatron to its midsection caused it to fall over into the lava. The Maximals ran across the bridge and found not a passage, but a cavern on the other side. They went into it and were immersed in darkness, save for the faint glow of a distant torch.

Skyfire bent down and touched the floor and could feel that it was made of stone bricks. "Whatever this place is, it isn't natural," he whispered.

"I have a feeling that this entire world isn't natural," Tigatron replied. Skyfire couldn't help but agree. The red sky, the dead forest, the lava floes, and now some kind of artificial structure cut into the side of a volcano, it seemed bizarre to say the least. The two robots turned their sensors to maximum and moved forward, towards where the light was. Skyfire couldn't help but get the creeps as he neared the torch, this place was too weird. They reached the torch and Skyfire grabbed it. He waved it around him and saw a panel with a switch on it. He hit the switch, and dim lights lit up the cavern. Skyfire felt his hands shake and the torch fell from his grasp.

***

The cavern was made up entirely of large green bricks, and seemed to be several stories in height. In the middle of the floor was some kind of strange symbol: it was a triangle with an eye in the center. Skyfire, being a scientist by trade, scanned his cultural database for a match for the symbol and was surprised to find numerous matches. All of them had a common denominator: the symbol was one of evil. However, the most horrifying thing was that the walls were covered from floor to ceiling with the bodies of dead Transformers in various states of destruction, all chained to the wall.

Skyfire recognized the bodies of some of his old Autobot comrades, others of Decepticon enemies, still others that were Maximals, and some Predacons. He gazed at one in particular that was suspended many feet in the air. No bodies were around it, as if it were some kind of special prize. It was the body of one of the most famous Autobot leaders: Rodimus Prime. "No!" Skyfire wailed. They couldn't have destroyed Rodimus; he had been alive before Skyfire had boarded the Axalon. "It's not possible! Rodimus is still alive, on Cybertron!"

"Then maybe they've already taken over Cybertron," Tigatron put forth grimly. Skyfire shook his head in disbelief.

"They couldn't have. This body has to be a fake."

"Even so, we need to find Optimus Primal and the Matrix."

"You're right." Skyfire turned away, still shaken. Just then something slammed into his chest and knocked him over. He heard Tigatron firing and struggled to his feet. As he did, he heard the sound of something grinding, followed by a terrifying hissing. That was when part of the walls around the two Maximals began to move. Nearly fifty red, scaly spheres emerged. They all had one large eye, and below that, an enormous jaw. From these gigantic mouths came balls of plasma. Skyfire rolled and dodged them. He began firing blindly at anything that moved, and saw Tigatron doing the same. There was nowhere to run, no doors or stairs. The red creatures hovered in the air, raining plasma balls down upon their hapless victims.

To his horror, Skyfire watched several of these balls strike Tigatron. One hit him in the chest, sending him flying just as another hit his left arm and blew it off. Once he was lying still, the aliens peppered him until he was scrap, his screams echoing throughout the cavern. There was a final scream as a ball hit him squarely in the head.

"No! Murderers!" Skyfire screamed. In a blind rage, he went to beast mode and soared into the air. He zigged and zagged his way past incoming plasma balls until he was above the creatures. They didn't seem to be able to fly too high, so he transformed and pulled out his rifle. Then he began blasting the walls. Debris from the dead robots and chunks of stone rained down on the aliens. Helpless, most were killed as shrapnel pierced their scaly hides. Skyfire trained his gun towards the floor and kept firing. He held his finger on the trigger until all of the creatures were destroyed. Only then did he cease firing and lower himself to the blood-stained floor. He kicked aside wreckage and dead bodies until he came across Tigatron. His friend and comrade lay there, unmoving, his body torn and leaking fluids. There was no way that he could be repaired. Sadly, Skyfire looked for a way out of the building. Then he spotted a door that had risen into place with the walls. He opened it, preparing for the worst and determined to make the aliens pay for Tigatron's death.

All he saw was an empty corridor. It was lined with the dead bodies of every Transformer leader, save for Rodimus Prime and Optimus Primal. The corridor was dark, and there was another door at the end of it. Skyfire ran quickly to the door and yanked it open. He saw a room twice as large as the cavern. The walls were lined with balconies, all of which contained aliens. It seemed as if thousands of them were in the room. A single bright light shone down in the middle of the room. There was another of the evil symbols, and an altar. Lying on the altar was what he had been looking for: Optimus Primal.

Chapter Three - The Sacrifice

None of the aliens had noticed Skyfire in the doorway, and he wondered how he could rescue Optimus without getting vaporized by all of the creatures. He looked around the room once more and raised his weapon. He aimed carefully and then fired a shot. The blast hit the light above the altar squarely, causing the room to be cast into darkness. Then Skyfire ran towards the altar. Fireballs, plasma balls, and other things whizzed all around him, but they were inaccurately aimed and missed. Skyfire could hear roars of all sorts around him, and knew that the aliens were hitting themselves. He reached the altar and touched Optimus. He was still alive and functioning.

"Can you fly?" He asked the Maximal leader.

"Who...are you?" Primal asked shakily.

"A friend. Can you?"

"I'll try." Optimus sat up and Skyfire helped him to stand on the altar. With a flash, his Primal Jets activated. "Let's go."

Skyfire transformed and the two climbed into the air. Skyfire had no idea where they would go, but Optimus seemed to have an idea. He crashed through a panel of dark glass and rays of light shone down as a hole to the open air was formed. The aliens could see them now and intensified their fire, but it was too late. The two Transformers disappeared through the opening and into the sky.

***

In the light, Skyfire could see that Optimus was barely functioning. His right arm was blown off and his chest was ripped open, exposed circuits crackling with energy. It was apparent that the aliens had forcefully taken the Matrix from the Maximal leader. "So where is the Matrix?" Skyfire asked worriedly.

"It's on the top of the mountain, in an alien fortress. At least that's where they took it from me. Then they took me to the temple for some kind of sacrifice. If you hadn't saved me, I'd be dead by now," Primal responded tiredly.

"Just doing my job. Why do they want the Matrix so badly?"

"Because it's the only thing in the universe powerful enough to stop them. From what I've seen and heard, these aliens use teleporting devices to invade worlds, swarming them and enslaving the population. They're preparing for a massive assault on thousands of worlds. With the Matrix in their possession, nothing can stop them."

"But the Matrix can't destroy them all, can it?" Skyfire had not been present the past two times when the Autobot Matrix had been used, the first at the battle over Cybertron where the evil Unicron was destroyed, and the second when Optimus Prime had used the Matrix to stop a hate plague from overrunning the galaxy, but he knew that even its power would not be enough to wipe out all of the aliens.

"No, the Matrix doesn't have the power to erase a civilization, and to use it for such would taint it into an object of evil. However, it can destroy the teleporter network the aliens use for their invasions. Then they will be isolated and the universe will be safe from their evil. I'm afraid, though, that you will have to open the Matrix. I can't do it in my present condition."

"I can't open the Matrix! The Matrix is possessed by the greatest leaders is Cybertronian history! I'm only a warrior and scientist, not a leader."

"It doesn't matter. As long as your heart and intentions are not evil, then you can open the Matrix in our darkest hour. You'll be one of a few to do so. It is one of the greatest achievements any Transformer can ever accomplish. I only pray that you can make it."

"With your help, I know I can."

"I'm not sure what help I will be. They destroyed my weapons systems, except for this," Primal pulled out a sword and clutched it in his remaining hand. They burst through a layer of clouds and saw a fortress looming not on the mountain's top, but rather, above it.

"By the inferno, I've never seen anything like this!" Skyfire burst out. "Wait here, I'll take a look around." Optimus nodded and Skyfire beat his wings until he was caught in an air current, then he glided towards the fortress. The entire place seemed to made from shining black obsidian, making it seem even more intimidating. The fortress was large and square with enormous towers at each corner, and a spindly tower in the center. Skyfire knew that these were guard posts, looking for intruders like himself. He would have to be even more careful. He soared down towards the fortress, wondering where the aliens would put the Matrix.

As he pondered this, a blue light blinded him and he closed his eyes, crying out in pain. In his mind's eye, he could see the Matrix. It seemed to be beckoning to him. He reached out to touch it, but couldn't. Then it began to speak to him in a low, vaguely familiar voice. "Jetfire?" It questioned.

"Yes, that was my Autobot name, but that was a long time ago," Skyfire replied.

"No matter. Autobot you were, and so you will always be. You must find me, all is at stake."

"How? The aliens could have hidden the Matrix anywhere."

"Follow your heart. Let your feelings guide you, and you will know where I am." At that moment, the voice registered with Skyfire.

"Optimus, Optimus Prime!" He remembered his former leader well, no Autobot could forget the great Optimus Prime.

"Yes, Jetfire," the voice from the Matrix faded, as did the blue light. Skyfire opened his eyes and narrowly avoided running into the fortress's outer wall. He gained altitude and studied the fortress from afar. He tried to block out his natural scientist's instincts, and tried to listen to his heart. The center tower, it has to be, a small voice told him. He was sure of it; the Matrix was in the center tower.

"Optimus, I know where the Matrix is. We'll have to land in the center of the base and make our way up the middle tower until we find it."

"I understand. I'll be at your position in moments." Skyfire circled anxiously, using a few black clouds to hide himself from any prying eyes. Optimus appeared next to him less than a minute later.

"We'll need a plan to get inside. I'm sure it's too heavily guarded to just waltz into the tower."

"We'll create a diversion and try to sneak inside. Then we'll have to fight our way up."

"I'm game. I'll create the diversion, you get to the tower. I'll meet you as soon as I can. Skyfire, Maximize!" Optimus nodded and headed for the fortress, coming down below it and sneaking up to a wall. Meanwhile, Skyfire was heading for a guard post on the opposite side from where Optimus was. He landed near the base of it and took a deep breath. Then sections of his chest armor moved aside and revealed hidden missile launchers. Plasma cannons also appeared under his arms. He clutched his rifle and hoped that he still had the energon after this assault to make it up the tower. Rocket boosters moved into place on his back and he took off into the red sky. He hovered in front of the guard post, startling the aliens inside. They were enormous, brown creatures with missile launchers on one arm. They roared at him and a buzzer sounded. Skyfire smiled to himself and then opened fire. Under the withering rain of missiles and plasma cannons the tower toppled. Skyfire continued firing, sweeping the area. More of the large aliens poured from buildings inside the fortress. There was no return fire, the onslaught from the Maximal was too great to permit any form of retaliation. However, there were far more aliens than Skyfire's weapons could handle.

"Energon drain. Power levels, critical. Transform to beast mode immediately or stasis lock is imminent," a computerized voice warned Skyfire. He shook his head; his Ultra Combat mode took far too much out of his circuits. He only hoped that Primal had made it to the tower.

"Time for the big finish," Skyfire remarked and fired a pair of blue-colored missiles. Then he took off, his rocket boosters flaring an angry red color. A dark optical visor slid over Skyfire's eyes as the missiles exploded, sending a flash of light as bright as a star going nova throughout the fortress. When it died down, Skyfire was landing at the foot of the tower. Optimus was already inside and climbing a flight of stone stairs. "Deactivate Ultra Combat mode," Skyfire ordered and the missile launchers, plasma cannons, and rocket boosters disappeared. He pulled out his laser cannon and followed Optimus.

"Did they see you come here?" Optimus asked.

"No way. Those blinder missiles should keep them looking for us for a while now."

"Let's hope so." They climbed in silence, but then they heard a noise that sounded like very heavy feet stomping. A missile crashed into the wall near Optimus and Skyfire began to fire blindly. A moment later, one of the large, brown aliens appeared.

"Take cover! I'll blast him!"

"Where am I supposed to go?" Optimus asked as he charged the alien, sword swinging over his head. Skyfire shrugged and fired just over his comrade's shoulder. The hulking alien blocked the entire stairway, thus it was easy to shoot past Optimus and still make a hit. While Skyfire kept firing, Optimus leapt into the air, his sword slicing down at the alien's missile-launcher arm. The sword sliced through the flesh just above the launcher and it clattered to the steps. The alien howled in pain, but Optimus silenced it as his sword sliced through its neck and took its head off. The corpse fell forward and Skyfire barely got out of the way as it tumbled down the stairs.

They kept going, slashing and blasting two more of the demons before reaching the top of the stairs. The stairs led up into the middle of a room, but the Maximals stayed just below the floor. Skyfire carefully peaked over the stairs and saw an empty room around him, the Matrix glowing serenely only about five feet away. It was too easy, it had to be a trap. He fired once into the air, and the walls began to slid upwards. It was a trap just like the one in the temple, only Skyfire wasn't about to fall for it twice. He lowered himself, hearing many whirring sounds.

"I'll pop up blasting, you grab the Matrix," Skyfire whispered to Optimus. The Maximal leader nodded gravely, knowing full well what was at stake if they failed to beat whatever was up there. "Ultra Combat mode." The boosters, missiles, and plasma cannons reappeared, and Skyfire hoped that he had the energon for this final assault. He took in a deep breath and steeled himself for battle. He motioned for Primal to stand back and lit his boosters. He roared into the room and saw at least fifteen spider-like aliens in it. The aliens had robot spider legs and a mass that looked like brain tissue mounted above it. These aliens are fascinating, he thought to himself. Of the aliens, most were a small size, while a few were a larger variety, but then there was one that was enormous.

"You have finally come to meet your doom. This will be the last time your kind ruins our plans for ultimate conquest," the massive spider said.

"You're right, because this is the last time the universe will see the likes of you," Skyfire tossed back and opened fire. The barrage of missiles and plasma bursts took out all of the smaller aliens, but a few of the larger ones remained. Skyfire continued firing, but felt himself weakening. His boosters shut off and he fell to the floor in a heap.

"Energy level below critical point. Stasis lock in five megacycles." Instantly, Skyfire converted back to normal robot form, barely able to raise himself onto one knee. He clutched his laser cannon and saw the remaining aliens bearing down on him. The muzzles of guns mounted just below the organic tissue began to glow green.

"No!" Skyfire called out weakly. "Beast mode." He transformed just as the aliens fired. He shot into the air and the shots intended to strike him down missed.

"It will avail you not, Transformer. We will bring you down eventually. Then your people will be annihilated," the lead alien gloated.

"You know, you talk too much," Optimus Primal said as his sword blade came down upon the glass chamber covering the lead alien's organic tissue. The glass shattered and the sword sliced into the brain tissue. The alien howled in pain, green blood oozing from where Optimus's sword had cleaved it in two. The spider-like creature's legs collapsed and it toppled to the floor. Then Optimus threw down his sword and grabbed the Matrix. "Catch!" He called out and threw it into the air.

The aliens began shooting at the flying Matrix, but Skyfire weaved between the blasts and snapped up the Matrix in his claws. He shot back up in the air until he was as high as he could go. He hovered for a moment, then called out, "Skyfire, Maximize!" He transformed and held the Matrix in his hands. The aliens continued to shoot at him, but he took the Matrix in one hand and pulled out his laser cannon. Feeling more power than he ever had before, Skyfire began firing and systematically killed each and every one of the spider-like aliens. Then he put his gun away and took the handles of the Matrix in both hands. "Light our darkest hour," he murmured and pulled the handles. The Matrix pulled apart into two halves, a blue light getting brighter and brighter until it was blinding. The light swept through the room and kept going. A circle of blue light fanned out into infinity. There were distant explosions as the aliens's teleporter network was destroyed.

Throughout the universe, in thousands of locations, a wave of blue light eradicated teleporters, shutting them down forever. Hordes of aliens were left stranded on remote, isolated worlds, unable to go anywhere. The alien invasion force could no longer launch. In the alien temple, the Transformer bodies disappeared and the body of Tigatron sprang to life once more. The Maximal scout sat up and looked around, unsure of why he was alive again. At the Maximal base, Rhinox struggled to his feet and looked around at his comrades, all of whom were back to normal.

"They did it," he said in awe. "They did it!"

The blue light finally died down and the halves of the Matrix came back together. Skyfire landed and saw that Optimus had been repaired completely. He handed him the Matrix. "Here, this belongs to you," Skyfire said.

"Thank-you," Optimus replied. He smiled at Skyfire and then inserted the Matrix into his chest. As it closed, a missile struck him in the back. Optimus hit the floor, and to his horror, Skyfire could see hundreds of aliens charging up the stairs. However, at the end of the room, a blue portal had opened.

"Take the Matrix and go, I'll hold them off!" Skyfire shouted, going to Ultra Combat mode. His systems were once again fully charged, and he began firing down the stairs.

"No, I can't leave you here, you'll die!" Optimus replied and added his missile launchers to the fray.

"You've got to get the Matrix back safely, or all will be lost!"

Optimus nodded slowly. Skyfire was right, and he knew it. "It's been an honor serving with you, Skyfire," Optimus said sadly. Then fired a pair of missiles and leapt through the portal, which was already beginning to close. Skyfire got down on one knee and continued to fire down the steps. He couldn't let the aliens get to the portal, or else they could get the Matrix back. A missile struck him in the chest and bowled him over. He shook it off and continued to fire. More missiles and plasma balls hit, until Skyfire was lying on his back on the floor. His laser cannon lay inches away, and he struggled to get to it, but his arm wouldn't move. Then in a flash of light, the portal closed. The aliens charging up the stairs to finish off Skyfire were blinded.

All of the fighting stopped and an eerie silence prevailed, save for the distant cry of an eagle...

Epilogue

A blue portal opened and Optimus Primal came crashing into the Maximal base. He struggled to his feet and looked around him. He smiled with joy when he saw all of the other Maximals standing nearby, fully operational. Tigatron helped Optimus to his feet and looked at him worriedly. "Skyfire?" He asked, dreading the answer.

"He...he didn't make it. The aliens charged our position in force, he must not have made it to the portal before it closed," Optimus answered, sadness in his voice.

"Then let's go back and rescue him!" Cheetor blurted out.

"Yeah. He's our friend, we owe him big," Rattrap agreed.

"It is dishonorable to leave a comrade behind," Dinobot added.

"We can't, as much as we want to," Rhinox announced, grief in his voice. "There's no way we can recreate the teleporter portals the aliens use. And with their teleporter network destroyed, there's no way he could get to us. I'm sorry."

"He was a brave warrior and a friend, both as an Autobot and as a Maximal. He saved us all; he gave his life so the universe could be free of the aliens's evil. I'm...I'm going to miss him," Optimus lamented. He left the others and walked down a lonely corridor. He stopped at a window and looked out at the blue sky. Tigatron joined him and put a hand on Optimus's shoulder. They had known Skyfire the longest, and would miss him the most.

"Wherever you are, friend, I hope you have plenty of open sky to fly in," Tigatron said and walked away, his head hanging. Optimus watched as black clouds moved into the sky. He turned away as it began to rain.

The Divine War, Part II

2007-06-13T10:23:00.000-07:00

Author's Note: This is the second and what turned out to be final part of "The Divine War" series written in early 2002. After this I started getting involved in literary fiction, so this marks the end of an era really.

The Divine War

Part II: Warrior

O I know they make war because they want peace; they hate so that they may live; and they destroy the present to make the world safe for the future. When have they not done and said they did it for that?
-- Elizabeth Smart (1913–1986)

Prologue

My Beloved Taa:

It has been six months since you left me. I think of you and all the time we spent together every day. Each time I look where Tehuzaa should be in the sky, I wonder what you are doing at the moment. Are you thinking of me? Are you longing for me the same as I do for you?

In my nightmares I can see you in your Spidlaa coming towards me. You keep coming and even though I don’t want to, my hand goes to the trigger. Just as I see you mouth, “I love you”, I squeeze the trigger, a burst of pellets shattering your beautiful face. I wake up, realizing it is only a dream, yet I can’t help wondering if I will someday be forced into the position of having to kill you. I fear it more than losing my own life.

There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t yearn for your presence to help strengthen me. You always made me feel like the luckiest man in the universe, like I could throw down all sixteen gods without breaking a sweat. Since you left me, I can’t help but feel lost, like a piece of me is missing.

Over these last six months, I have watched our two worlds edge closer each day to a full-blown war. I know the time is drawing near when I will be forced to kill Tehuzaar and I wonder if I will be able to do it without your strength to steady me. As much as I worry about you, I also worry about what will happen to me when I enter my first real dogfight. Will I run from battle, or make a mistake that kills my comrades, or become a bloodthirsty monster?

I just hope my nightmares do not come true.

Love Always,

Kee

Chapter One

Kee floated into the Inrii’s ready room, positioning himself next to Bii in the back row. Over the last six months, the squadron had taken on Lingaar pilots to replace the Tehuzaar defectors, though Kee still had trouble remembering the names of the new pilots. The new member of he and Bii’s flight, Duu Roncaa, grabbed the hook next to Kee and asked, “Any idea what’s going to happen?”

Like all of the new pilots, Duu had just completed flight training and yearned for a fight. Kee wondered if their enthusiasm would fade after their first real battle, if they even survived. Bii shrugged in response to the younger pilot’s question. “Nobody’s been saying anything lately. I think Command is worried about moles leaking our plans to the Tehuzaar.”

“I suppose we’ll find out in just a second,” Kee added. The lights dimmed as Squadron Commander Rinwaa floated into the room. The projector came to life, displaying an image of Yortaa, the fourth planet in the system. The giant gray-white planet hung in the air, spinning lazily around its three thin rings.

Rinwaa waited for the room to quiet down before speaking. “This, as you know, is Yortaa, which up until forty years ago was just a barren rock. Since then it has become the leading supplier of raw minerals to Lingaa and Tehuzaa. Now, ladies and gentlemen, it is the focal point of the war.”

Rinwaa had to wait until another round of excited whispers died out. “Yortaa has thus far remained neutral in the conflict, but our intelligence indicates an increasing Tehuzaar presence on the colony. More important is what has been observed going on in orbit.”

The projector changed images, a close-up view of Yortaa’s rings rotating in the air. The rings were made of what looked like rocks of varying sizes, whether they were made from stone or some other material, Kee could not be sure. He noticed the innermost and outermost rings were more densely packed than the one in the middle and wondered if a scientific explanation for it existed. Rinwaa continued, “Tehuzaar freighters have been seen dropping off cargo in the ring system. From what our intelligence analysts have seen, they believe the Tehuzaar are building defenses in the rings to interdict our commercial shipping with Yortaa. Depending on what weapons they are constructing, they may also be able to strike any of our fleets bound for Tehuzaa.”

Rinwaa looked around the room, and in the dim light of the projector, Kee could see his commander’s pained expression. “Yortaa is a key strategic target for both sides, whoever controls it will have a stranglehold on mineral resources and shipping routes through the system. Having said that, I can tell you our orders are to seek and destroy any Tehuzaar weapons in the rings. The 23rd will be joining us, while the 21st flies cover and the 15th stays back to baby-sit the Inrii. This is not an easy mission. It will be tight flying, which is why I’ve scheduled simulator time for all of you over the next two days. We launch at 0600 in three days. That is all.”

The meeting broke up, the pilots talking amongst themselves about the upcoming mission. Kee kept silent, feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, it felt good to have an actual combat mission after months of being idle, but at the same time he worried about losing friends or his own life. Duu, as expected, chattered nonstop about the prospect of combat all the way to the room he and Kee shared. Bii had come up with the idea of mixing the veteran pilots with the new recruits, a policy now being enforced throughout the task force. Living with Duu reminded Kee of the stories Taa would tell him about sharing a room with Luu Mercaa, a notorious talker.

Duu floated around the room, his whole body seeming to radiate nervous energy. “I can’t wait to pay those Tehuzaar cowards back for ambushing the Inrii at Tehuzaa.”

Kee shook his head, his eyes darting to the wooden box lying at the bottom of his storage bag. “That isn’t exactly what happened,” he said.

“Yeah, maybe, but they’re going to learn now what they’re in for.”

Kee knew he could do little to curb the younger pilot’s enthusiasm, so he grunted and floated up to his sleeping sack. He thought of writing another letter to Taa, even though he knew no mail was being sent to Tehuzaa, deciding instead to write his parents. He’d always been given anything he wanted by his parents, yet he did not feel a strong emotional bond with them. Staring at the blank screen of his minicomp, he found it difficult to tell them what he felt. In the end, he decided denial to be the best approach. He wrote of everything from the food to the books he’d read, making no mention of the potentially fatal mission.

He put his minicomp on the shelf overhead, reaching for his book. Although it may be dangerous if his superiors found out, Kee cracked open the copy of the Tehuu Testament given to him by Taa on his birthday last year. There were quite a few similarities between the Tehuzaar and Lingaar religions, though he found the relationship between the Tehuzaar and their God to be much different from the Lingaar and their gods. To Lingaar there was almost a mercenary relationship with the gods, offering prayers and the occasional sacrifice at a shrine in exchange for good fortune. The Tehuzaar, Kee began to understand, saw God as a father who loved and cared for them. While Lingaar would shift allegiances to whatever god they felt would help them, the Tehuzaar remained ever faithful to their one deity. Kee admired the Tehuzaar’s devotion to their God. Perhaps in better times I could have converted, he thought. He snapped the book shut, deciding to get some rest before the simulator session in the morning. As much as he admired the Tehuzaar, tomorrow he would be trained to kill them.

***

Kee had seen Yortaa many times before on his way to Tehuzaa, but he’d never come so close to the planet before now. He turned to his right to see Duu flying in perfect position. He wondered if Taa waited in the rings for him. Rinwaa’s voice broke up his dark thoughts. “All units proceed into the target area. Stay tight and keep your eyes peeled.”

Kee followed Bii’s sharp bank to the left, lining up for a run into the middle ring. Duu positioned himself behind Kee’s fighter, the tight confines of the rings making it necessary to fly in single file. The closer he came to the rings, the more they seemed like the Zeboo asteroid belt he’d flown through during flight school, chunks of ice-covered rock varying in size from tiny pebbles to kilometers across. He worried as much about one of the smaller pieces smashing through his cockpit as a Tehuzaar missile blowing his fighter to pieces.

He twisted his Spidlaa to the right to avoid smashing into a rock as big as his plane. He jerked his head from left to right, searching for any sign of enemy activity. Up ahead, he could see Bii pull up sharply over another rock. Kee followed his flight leader’s wild gyrations, all the while scanning for some trace of the Tehuzaar.

After twenty minutes of frenzied maneuvering, he suddenly heard Duu shout, “I’m hit!”

Kee looked back, watching in horror as Duu’s fighter corkscrewed into a chunk of icy debris. The Spidlaa exploded in a tiny fireball, a rust-colored fighter zipping through the smoke and launching a pair of missiles. Kee wasted no time in dropping a countermeasure and hauling back on his control stick. The enemy Spidlaa followed the maneuver, firing a burst of pellets that grazed Kee’s left wing. Much to his relief, his displays showed no damage.

He looked around for Bii while he jerked his fighter past another rock, but he did not see his flight leader anywhere. The enemy plane followed Kee’s defensive maneuvers, another volley of pellets chewing up the left wing. His helmet’s warning tone sounded in his ears, telling him the enemy aircraft had locked on with its missiles. Kee dropped another countermeasure, barrelrolling to the left just as the missile flashed from under the wing of the Tehuzaar fighter.

He knew he had to find a way to take the offensive or find help; otherwise he would be done for. The enemy pilot so far had followed his every move, it seemed unlikely Kee could coax him to collide with one of the rocks in the ring. He jinked right around another piece of debris, the answer coming to him. He lined up a rock straight ahead of him and armed one of his missiles. The heat-seeking Bavroo missiles couldn’t lock onto the icy rocks, but if he fired from close enough, the missile wouldn’t have enough time to make a course adjustment.

He pushed the throttle ahead, weaving right to avoid another stream of pellets. The rock, as big as a sledge, became larger in his canopy. He counted to three, then fired a missile and shoved the control stick forward. He didn’t see the missile’s impact, but when he had completed his loop, he saw the Tehuzaar fighter looming large in his sights. He let loose another Bavroo, the missile hitting the mark from pointblank range. Kee climbed over the debris cloud from the downed plane and shattered rock.

Safe for the moment, Kee looked around to see if he could spot Bii. All around him, blue-and-white Lingaar Spidlaas danced with rust-colored Tehuzaar fighters around the glittering ice rocks. It was strangely beautiful. He keyed his radio to the open frequency, ignoring the established protocol of observing radio silence during battle. “Bii, where are you?” he asked.

“I’m a little busy!” Bii grunted in reply.

Kee looked around the battlefield again, deciding to just help out the nearest Lingaar fighter. He swooped down past another rock, firing a burst of pellets. The shells missed the mark, but distracted the enemy long enough so the Lingaar fighter ahead of it could loop around and fire a missile. The Tehuzaar Spidlaa exploded, the two Lingaar planes forming up on each other. Fortune smiled on Kee as he heard Bii call out, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Kee replied.

“All right, try to stay with me this time.”

The two Lingaar Spidlaas waded back into the fight, each launching a missile at a Tehuzaar fighter. The enemy pilot, bracketed by the Bavroos, ejected safely before his plane exploded. Kee felt his plane’s control stick vibrate his hand, he looked back to see another Tehuzaar Spidlaa on his tail. “Bii, I’ve got one on me!”

“I’ll get him.” Bii’s fighter shot upward in a tight loop while Kee swerved left to avoid another burst of pellets. He heard the missile lock tone in his helmet, but he held his fighter level while he knew Bii was lining up a shot of his own. The Tehuzaar plane fired a missile, Kee snapping his fighter to the right in a roll almost hard enough to make him pass out from the G-forces. The missile harmlessly struck a rock, while the Tehuzaar Spidlaa burst into flame. Kee pulled around to form up on Bii again, looking around for another target.

“All units, evacuate the target zone,” Rinwaa commanded. “Repeat, evacuate the target zone.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Kee said. He pulled up on his control stick, kicking in his afterburners. Once clear of the rings, he could see streaks of light crisscrossing the space around the Inrii. A swarm of enemy fighters buzzed around the Inrii task force, dogfighting with Lingaar planes while dodging streams of anti-aircraft pellets and heat-seeking missiles.

“Listen up everyone,” Rinwaa said sharply, “we’ve got a group of Quhiis coming from the surface. It’s up to us get them, don’t let them launch their payloads.”

Kee checked his radar, noting the dozen attack planes coming through the atmosphere. Doing the math in his head, he knew it would be a close race to get to the Quhiis and eliminate them before they launched their anti-ship missiles at the Inrii.

Kee checked his fuel gauge, grimacing at the number. There would be very little fuel left after even a short engagement, he would run out if he had to do many more fancy maneuvers. Despite the desperate fuel situation, he had to use his afterburners now to intercept the attack planes before they reached striking distance. Bii raced along beside him, the rest of the squadron spread out in a single line.

The 19th had lost four fighters in the ring ambush, yet they fared better than the 23rd, which could field only three Spidlaas. At least as many Tehuzaar fighters had been shot down, providing the only positive in the battle thus far. No matter which side won, it would be a costly victory, albeit an important one.

Kee tried not to focus on his fallen squadronmates, instead keeping an eye on his radar display. The enemy Quhiis had yet to rise above the atmosphere, though even when they did it would take almost a minute to get them in missile range. Kee watched the gap narrow on his instruments, resisting the urge to wipe the sweat building on his forehead. At a moment such as this, he yearned for Taa’s ever-present calm. He knew she would not be sweating, she would not be feeling afraid right now.

He shook away thoughts of his departed fiancée, his eyes returning to the radar screen. The last Quhii had just cleared the atmosphere, leaving only forty-five seconds at maximum to destroy them. Kee squinted, just able to make out the glow from the attack planes’s engines. He fiddled with the control stick, waiting for the missiles to lock on to a target. After what seemed like an eternity, his targeting crosshairs glowed red, a tone indicating he had locked on to one of the Quhiis.

Kee stabbed the fire button twice, watching a pair of Bavroos streak across the empty blackness. A swarm of missiles joined his, leaving him with nothing to do, except watch the drama unfold. He saw explosions in the distance, blips fading from his radar screen. Even so, half of the Quhiis remained functional, closing to launch range.

Kee knew he would have to make his last missile count. He could see the dun-colored attack planes in the distance, but he would not be able to get in range for a shot from his cannon before the Quhiis launched. Though not a religious man, he said a brief prayer before he let his final Bavroo fly. He lost track of the projectile as it mixed with another swarm from his squadron, noting four more blips wiped from his radar.

Two Quhiis remained, growing larger in his canopy. No more missiles came from Kee’s squadron, the fighters forced to charge along at full speed and hope to get within cannon range before the enemy planes launched. Kee watched the distance wind down in his head’s up display, his finger poised over the button to fire a stream of pellets.

The Quhiis seemed resigned to their fate, pressing straight ahead without any concern for the fighters bearing down on them. A quartet of flashes almost blinded Kee, the telltale sign of missiles being launched. Kee could only watch as the big anti-ship projectiles hurtled away from the Quhiis, towards the Inrii. He took little satisfaction in blasting one of the attack planes to pieces with a burst of pellets while Bii took out the other.

Kee looked towards the big carrier and the smaller ships spread out around it. He could still see tiny explosions marking the loss of a fighter, the flashes of a missile launching, and the streams of light coming from the task force’s anti-aircraft weapons. He could do nothing more than check his fuel gauge, its numbers only increasing the helplessness he felt. With only another burst or two of pellets left and just enough fuel to make it back to the Inrii, he could do nothing to help his comrades.

The 19th formed up, drifting in empty space until the Inrii gave them permission to land. Kee listened to the open frequency, hearing pilots scream, swear, shout warnings, and thank each other. His fists clenched of their own accord, his stomach churning with each call over the radio.

The battle ended three agonizing minutes later, the last Tehuzaar fighters retreating to bases on the surface of Yortaa. The enemy Spidlaas flew past in sight of Kee’s idling squadron, but apparently the Tehuzaar did not have the weapons or fuel for an engagement either. Rinwaa relayed instructions to land on the escort cruiser Zerlaa to rearm and refuel. As Kee passed by the Inrii, he could see three gaping holes in its starboard side from the anti-ship missiles launched by the Quhiis. He cursed under his breath, knowing his squadron had failed to protect the carrier. Kee followed Bii’s fighter to land in the cramped hangar bay of the squat, cylinder-shaped Zerlaa.

Before Kee even climbed from his cockpit, a team of mechanics had already started hooking up a fuel hose and bringing over a cart of Bavroos. He saw Squadron Commander Rinwaa motioning for the squadron to gather around his plane. Kee’s entire body felt like a lead weight as he hauled himself over to Rinwaa’s Spidlaa, a fatigue he could see the other pilots shared. Rinwaa’s face looked pained as he spoke. “There isn’t much time, but I have received word that an enemy task force will be here in less than one hour. Everyone is to shower, change, and drink a vitamin shake, then meet me back here for a quick briefing.” Rinwaa motioned to a junior officer from the Zerlaa. “She’ll show you where to go. Now I know some of you are disappointed about what happened out there, but we did everything we could. You all performed just as I expected, and I know I can count on all of you in this next battle. Go on and get out of here.”

Rinwaa’s pep talk did little to lift Kee’s spirits as he followed the other pilots to the showers. His commander could say they did everything they could, but it did not ease the weight Kee felt. He thought of the damaged Inrii, wondering how many men and women had died because four anti-ship missiles got through to the ship. Ultimately, no matter what Rinwaa said, Kee knew the blood was on his hands.

Chapter Two

“I don’t believe it. How could they get a whole task force here without our knowing about it?” Bii asked as he downed the last of his vitamin shake.

“It’s not going to make a difference, we’ll wipe them out anyway. This time they won’t be able to surprise us like in the rings,” Luu Mercaa said.

Kee held his tongue, gulping down his own can of tasteless goo. He couldn’t shake the dark thoughts out of his head. He hadn’t been able to stop the last two Quhiis, and now dozens of people were dead as a result. With a start, he realized Bii had a hand on his shoulder. “Kee, are you coming?”

“Sure thing.” Kee followed after Bii and Luu, floating down the corridor back to the hangar. The other pilots had already assembled around Rinwaa’s fighter, with Rinwaa himself hovering over the nose of the Spidlaa.

“I’m going to make this quick. We are going to launch an attack on the enemy task force. Each fighter will be outfitted with one Jeflii anti-ship missile and two Bavroos. The Inrii will be sending up a squadron of Quhiis escorted by the remnants of the 21st and 23rd. While the Quhiis are armed with anti-ship missiles, they will serve primarily as a decoy. The enemy should concentrate its firepower on the Quhiis and their escorts, allowing us to get into launch range. I know most of you do not have experience in attack operations, but firing a Jeflii missile is just the same as launching a Bavroo, you just have a bigger target to work with. Launch your missile, then help bail out the decoys, understood?”

“Yes, sir!” the squadron replied as one. Kee drifted to his plane, noticing the bulky Jeflii missile under the Spidlaa’s belly.

“Good luck!” Bii shouted, clapping Kee on the shoulder. Kee did not share Bii’s enthusiasm, but as he hauled himself into the cockpit of his fighter, he felt a rage burning inside of him. The Tehuzaar had killed Duu and so many others, now Kee would be able to pay them back. He had been friends with Tehuzaar, even loved one, but as he launched from the Zerlaa, he only wanted to kill them.

***

Kee could see the distant bulk of the Tehuzaar task force ahead of him. The Inrii reported three Monloo-class cruisers and two Torgaa-class frigates made up the task force, which gave the Tehuzaar a slight edge in firepower. Kee checked the status of his Jeflii missile for the hundredth time, determined not to make a mistake when the time came. The missile’s bulk meant the fighters could not go top speed, making for a longer wait to get revenge.

“We are engaging the enemy,” a voice came over the open frequency. The call meant the Tehuzaar had taken the bait, focusing their planes on the decoy group. Kee watched the numbers tick down in his head’s up display, only about a minute before he could launch his missile. He could see flashes off to his right as the Tehuzaar and Lingaar planes tangled and wished he could join the action.

Rinwaa’s voice suddenly came over the squadron channel. “Listen up, everyone. Fighters are approaching from the surface. Jettison your Jeflii if you have to, but no foolish heroics.”

Kee could see the newcomers on his radar, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth. The fighters coming for them now had to be the same ones the 19th had allowed to escape in the last battle. This time the tables had been turned, with the Tehuzaar fighters rushing to catch the Lingaar before they launched their anti-ship missiles. Well, at least the universe has a sense of humor, Kee thought.

Only thirty seconds remained before he could fire his missile. The enemy Spidlaas began to appear, warning tones sounding in Kee’s helmet. He ignored the warnings, his vision focused on the Monloo cruiser growing larger before him. Kee launched countermeasures to keep enemy missiles away while he kept driving towards the cruiser in his sights. He counted down the last ten seconds, the warnings in his helmet becoming shriller. The Tehuzaar Bavroos closed unabated on Kee’s fighter, ignoring the countermeasures.

His crosshairs turned red, the Jeflii locking onto the enemy cruiser. Kee stabbed the fire button, shoving his control stick forward once the missile cleared his Spidlaa’s nose. The fighter shot downward in a hard spiral, a pair of heat-seekers following the sudden maneuver. He released another countermeasure, while at the same time jerking his Spidlaa hard to the right. One of the missiles followed the decoy, the other followed Kee. He threw his fighter into a sharp barrelroll, an explosion blossoming behind him. The missile, having run out of fuel, exploded harmlessly.

Kee surveyed the area around him, finding himself alone while a fierce battle raged overhead. He searched for Bii’s plane, but he couldn’t distinguish one Spidlaa from another in the ratrace. In desperation, he called out, “Bii, where are you?”

“Four o’clock high! I got one on my tail…I can’t shake him!” Bii shouted back, his voice sounding more panicked than Kee had ever known. He pushed the throttle ahead, hoping he didn’t arrive too late to help his friend and wingman.

He could see a stream of pellets clip Bii’s wing, the enemy Spidlaa following each desperate maneuver Bii tried. Kee felt his own plane buck, pellets grazing his fighter’s belly, but he focused on the Spidlaa pursuing Bii. The two planes were too close for Kee to use one of his missiles, forcing him to rely on his cannon.

Bii’s fighter weaved back and forth, trying to keep the Tehuzaar plane from getting a clear shot, but at the same time it prevented Kee from being able to line up the enemy Spidlaa. “Bii, I’m behind you. Get out of the way and I’ll take this guy down,” Kee said with a calm he did not feel.

“All right, you nail this bastard.” Bii arced his fighter up, but instead of the enemy fighter trying to pursue, it broke off to the right and down. It became painfully clear why an instant later, when a Bavroo smashed into Bii’s cockpit at pointblank range. Kee watched in horror as the fighter sprayed a cloud of debris, then disappeared without any trace of Bii.

Kee wanted to scream, but no sound would come from his throat. Hot tears stained his cheeks, a paralysis seizing his entire body. The renewed screech of the warning tone in his helmet shook him from his stupor. He did not know which fighter had actually fired the shot that killed Bii, but he did spot the Spidlaa that had been pursuing his friend.

Kee’s eyes narrowed, he wanted nothing more than to destroy the Tehuzaar plane, to repay it for causing Bii’s death. He was not conscious of what he did next—an impossible series of maneuvers to wind his way through the heart of the dogfight—until he found himself on the tail of his quarry. He launched one of his Bavroos, the weapon just missing the enemy’s left wing. He triggered a burst of pellets, the Tehuzaar fighter standing on its right wing to dodge the shots.

Kee became oblivious to everything around him, his universe centering on the Spidlaa weaving ahead of him. He did not notice Yortaa growing larger before him, nor did he see the increasing gap between his plane and the rest of his squadron. He kept on the tail of his prey, being careful not to waste the rest of his ammunition. He waited for the perfect shot, a clean kill to avenge Bii’s memory.

“Henlaa, where are you going?” Rinwaa shouted in his helmet.

Kee switched the radio off to maintain his concentration. Once he reached the atmosphere, he would have no choice but to wait until he descended into Yortaa’s stratosphere to resume the fight. He tried every maneuver he could think of to line up a shot, yet each time the enemy pilot countered him. After a final failed burst of pellets, Kee followed his adversary into the atmosphere.

Heat built up in his cockpit, making him worry about his last Bavroo cooking off and taking him with it. The missile held together, the Spidlaa emerging in the cooler air of the stratosphere. Kee looked around to find his quarry, the other plane’s rust paint scheme contrasting markedly with the thick white clouds drifting close to the surface. Kee banked hard to the right, dropping back on the enemy fighter’s tail.

Once again Kee could not manage to get a good shot. He followed his opponent down lower, through the clouds, until he found himself surrounded by a vast range of gray-purple mountains. The aerial game of cat-and-mouse continued, yet as each second went by the real enemy became a shortage of fuel. By descending through the atmosphere, Kee had already known he would not be able to make it back to the Inrii, but before much longer he would have no choice about where to land his plane. Something had to be done.

Kee decided on a risky course of action. If he could not destroy the Tehuzaar Spidlaa, perhaps he could do the next best thing by forcing the enemy plane down. He waited until the enemy fighter weaved to the right, veering his own plane in the same direction. He fired a burst of pellets, but by then the Tehuzaar pilot had already taken advantage of Kee’s mistake.

Just as Kee predicted, the enemy Spidlaa did an inverted loop to get behind Kee and take the initiative in the battle. Instead of trying a maneuver to counter, Kee killed his throttle, throwing on his verts to hover in the air. He turned in his seat, watching the Tehuzaar fighter complete its loop only to find Kee’s plane directly in its path. With a grim smile, Kee jerked the ejection handle over his head, the enclosed cockpit blasting free from the rest of the plane.

He couldn’t see the collision from the escape module, but he felt his cockpit shake from the explosion. Once the rockets beneath Kee expended their fuel, a pair of verts activated to ease him to the ground. He let his autopilot find a suitable landing spot while he searched the sky for any sign of his foe. His fists clenched with murderous rage when he saw a rust-colored Spidlaa escape module lowering itself to the ground. He could only watch as Bii’s killer drifted to safety.

Kee’s escape module touched down on a piece of level ground in the shadow of the mountains he had seen from his fighter. His adversary’s cockpit came down a kilometer away, Kee wasting no time in bolting from his cockpit with pistol in hand. Yortaa’s gravity was higher than either Tehuzaa or Lingaa, yet Kee ran as though he had wings. His eyes focused on the Tehuzaar escape module ahead of him, his hands tightening around his pistol’s grip. All he could think about was getting his hands around the neck of the enemy pilot, squeezing the last ounce of strength from the Tehuzaar wretch. He hungered for the complete annihilation of the enemy pilot, to bring about some measure of justice for Bii. His feet thundered across the rough Yortaan ground, every footfall increasing his lust for blood.

He watched the canopy of the Tehuzaar Spidlaa open, its pilot stumbling out with arms raised. Kee gave no sign he understood the enemy’s signal of surrender, charging at breakneck speed with his weapon raised. As he closed the gap, Kee saw the blood staining the Tehuzaar’s flight suit and a gash along his bare forehead. “I surrender!” the other man shouted.

Kee skidded to a halt in front of the enemy pilot, his finger tightening around his pistol’s trigger. “Down on your knees!” With a nod, the Tehuzaar knelt down on the ground. Kee patted him down, searching for weapons, but he did not find any. He jammed the barrel of his weapon hard into the neck of his prisoner, his teeth grinding together.

“Please, I surrender, don’t kill me.”

“Don’t kill you?” Kee snorted, as though it were the most outrageous thing he had ever heard. “You killed my friend and now you want me to spare your life?”

”I’ll tell you anything you want to know, just don’t kill me,” the Tehuzaar pilot said.

“I don’t care what you know, all I care about is justice for my friend!”

“Then take me with you, I’ll stand trial.”

Kee jammed the gun barrel deeper into the man’s neck. “Where was Bii’s trial?” Kee demanded. “He never got a trial, the only justice he received is the same you will.”

“You can’t do this. I’m unarmed! This is murder!”

Kee pulled the trigger.

The back of the Tehuzaar’s head exploded like a ripe melon, showering Kee with blood, bone, and brain matter. The enemy pilot pitched forward into the dirt, his limbs twitching a few moments. An eerie silence hung in the air, Kee standing over the body, not quite comprehending what he had done. He watched blood pool around the man’s shattered skull, the pistol feeling cold and leaden in Kee’s hand. He dropped the gun, running away as fast as his legs would carry him.

***

Black smoke rose in the distance, thick columns of it making the sky on the horizon appear like nighttime. Kee stumbled forward towards the smoke, sweat and grime coating his entire body. He had no idea what city lay ahead, having left his survival kit in his cockpit. It mattered little what lay in his path, he could only think of what he had done. The scene played again and again before his eyes in slow motion, each time a new wave of guilt stabbing his soul.

He froze in his tracks, watching a pair of Tehuzaar Quhiis pass maybe a hundred meters overhead, their bellies laden with bulbous bombs. Scant seconds later, three Lingaar Spidlaas streaked past in pursuit of the Tehuzaar warplanes. The Quhiis managed to drop their bombs before a swarm of Bavroos brought them down, fresh columns of smoke adding to the pall already over the city. The Spidlaas shot up in the air, disappearing in the haze.

Kee remained rooted in place, only now becoming aware of the trouble he had gotten himself into. He could try to go back to his escape module, to find his survival radio and call for help, or he could go into the city, where he might find friendly forces. If he went back he could run into Tehuzaar patrols, if he went ahead he could get caught in a lethal crossfire. He decided to take his chances in the city, wishing he hadn’t left his pistol behind.

He walked down a deserted highway into the city, the sounds of machine-gun fire and explosions close by. The buildings around him, all squat structures made of polished metal and glass, bore the scars of bombs and artillery. It became almost impossible to avoid stepping on glass or other debris. Kee climbed over the twisted wreck of a sledge to find himself in the middle of an intersection, and a gunfight.

He threw himself to the ground, pellets whizzing just overhead. He looked up to see a group of men in Unified Army gray body armor firing from behind a tipped-over sledge. Kee swung himself around one hundred eighty degrees, seeing another group of men in blue armor returning fire from behind a sledge of their own. With the body armor and helmets, Kee could not tell which were Tehuzaar and which Lingaar, so he decided to just make a run for it. He pushed himself to his feet, sprinting across the street and ducking into the cover of a doorway.

The sidewalk beneath his feet started to tremble, the massive black shape of a Huldaa tank coming down the road. To his dismay, the tank bore Tehuzaar markings and had a column of infantry behind it. The Huldaa made a ponderous left turn, its body rocking as it launched a shell from its sleek turret. Kee heard the explosion followed by screams, terror running through his entire body. It would not be much longer before he would be discovered, then captured or executed by the Tehuzaar. He launched himself from the doorway, his legs pumping as fast as they could over the debris-strewn ground.

“You, stop!” someone behind him barked. Pellets struck the road surface behind him, footsteps crunching glass in pursuit. Kee turned a corner blindly, the footsteps sounding closer. He felt a sharp pain in his left leg, pitching him forward onto the ground. He struggled to his feet, noticing the blood oozing from his leg onto the pavement. The Tehuzaar soldiers shouted again as Kee limped forward, though he knew it wouldn’t be long before the enemy caught him. He ducked down an alley, searching for some way to elude his pursuers. He flattened himself against a scarred wooden door, hoping the Tehuzaar would not search the alley or somehow miss him so he could double back.

He heard heavy footsteps echoing down the alley, the enemy soldiers on alert for a trap. Kee held his breath, his heart sounding like a drum in his ears as he waited to be discovered. The door behind him suddenly opened, one hand hauling Kee backward by his left shoulder while another hand clamped over his mouth like a vise. “Quiet!” a stern voice hissed. Kee heard a creak then felt himself being pulled down a flight of stairs. The hand around his mouth relented, allowing him to take a deep breath. “Don’t worry, we’re safe now. Just be quiet,” the voice said.

“Who are you?” Kee asked, looking around in the dark, but he could not see anything.

“Never mind that, just be quiet.” Kee heard footsteps overhead, followed by muffled curses. It seemed like a lifetime in the darkness before the sounds faded, the Tehuzaar soldiers moving on. “Stay here. I’ll make sure they’re gone.”

Kee thought to acknowledge the command, but he felt woozy all of the sudden. He slumped against a wall, the darkness suffocating him like a wet blanket. He tried to get to his feet, couldn’t, and decided to take a nap while he waited for his savior to come back for him.

Chapter Three

Kee woke up to find himself in bed, with his left leg bandaged and propped up on a pillow. With a start, he realized he only had on a pair of underpants before he noticed a fresh shirt and pants on the back of a chair next to the bed. He sat up, taking a look around the room. The meditation cushion in the corner told him it belonged to a Tehuzaar, but the bedroom had few other distinguishing features. A battered set of wooden drawers, a cracked mirror, and a bare metal lamp were the only other objects in the room.

He swung his legs over the bed, testing his injured leg. Pain raced through his body as soon as the limb touched the wooden floor. He cried out and rested his left leg back on the pillows, cursing his stupidity. He took a deep breath then reached over to the chair, snagging the faded blue shirt on the second try. The shirt went down to his knees, meant for someone at least two sizes bigger.

The bedroom door opened, a tall man with the tanned skin of a Tehuzaar ducking inside. The man had a shock of white hair with a matching well-trimmed beard, his black eyebrows the only hint to what his original hair color might have been. A smile split the old man’s face as he looked Kee over. “Are the accommodations to your liking?” he asked.

“I can’t complain. I didn’t get a chance to thank you for saving my life.”

“Don’t thank me just yet, I still have to find a way to get you back to your people.”

“I don’t mean to sound selfish, but how is my leg?”

“I took the pellet out, cleaned the wound, and bandaged it up, you should be up and around in a few weeks.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“I was, a long time ago.”

“Then why are you still here?”

The man shrugged. “Where else would I go? Every city, town, and village is exactly like this, with Lingaar and Tehuzaar at each other’s throats. I may as well stay where I’m comfortable. Which brings me to the question of what are you doing here?”

“My plane went down, I walked into town looking for help.”

“A pilot, eh? What do you fly?”

“Spidlaas.”

“A fighter pilot, how remarkable. I flew Valnoos for the Tehuzaar Militia when I was about your age. I don’t imagine you’ve even seen a Valnoo other than in books.”

Kee shook his head. “Just once at a museum.”

“Well, thanks for making me feel my age.” The old man sat at the end of the bed, checking Kee’s bandages. “I’m sorry about the clothes, they belonged to my son…so did this room until he died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you never knew him. He was a freighter captain, died when pirates raided his ship.” The old man paused, his eyes clouding up. “He’s been dead for twenty years now.”

“I…” Kee stopped, not knowing what to say. “I never asked for your name.”

“Saa Pidlii. It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

“Kee Henlaa.”

“Well, Kee, I don’t see any blood on your bandages, meaning the wound has stopped bleeding. I want you to get some rest, and if you have to use the bathroom, call for me or just go on the sheets if you can’t hold it.”

Kee smiled. “Thanks, Doctor.” Saa stood up, heading for the door. Kee finally worked up the courage to blurt out, “Why did you rescue me?”

A shadow crossed Saa’s face. “Because I could.” The door closed, Kee left alone to ponder Saa’s cryptic answer. He fell asleep to the rhythmic sound of thunder from the bombs and artillery shells hitting all around the city.

***

Kee woke to the sound of a string of explosions hitting nearby. He tried to get out of bed, only to be shoved back down by a large tan hand. He saw Saa sitting in the chair by the bed, looking down at him with concern. “What’s wrong?” Kee asked.

“You were crying out in your sleep. Something about a person named Taa. I got the impression someone tried to kill her.”

Kee sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He remembered a fragment of a nightmare, the horrible image of Taa kneeling down on the ground with his pistol at her neck. “It’s just a dream,” Kee replied.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened after your plane went down?”

Kee shook his head, feeling the cold lump of guilt in his gut. “Because you’ll hate me.”

“Try me.”

Kee looked Saa in the eye; the old man’s glare overwhelming him until he looked away. Kee took a deep breath and leaned back in bed, his words coming slowly. He explained about the battle in the rings, intercepting the Quhiis, and then the counterstrike against the Tehuzaar fleet. He paused, summoning his strength before he could describe Bii’s death and the dogfight between himself and the Tehuzaar pilot. “After our fighters went down, I went to finish what I started. I found him by his plane, wounded by either the collision or the ejection, I don’t know. He begged for me not to kill him, to take him captive, but I…I killed him.” Kee stopped, breaking down into violent sobs. He felt Saa’s arms around him, the old man holding him close.

He looked up, expecting to see hate or fear in Saa’s eyes, but instead he saw understanding. Saa held him out at arm’s length, whispering, “Kee, in a war, many things happen that we later regret.”

Saa stood up, pacing the room before looking back down at Kee. “I’ve never told this to anyone before, not even my wife or son. When I was only a little older than you, a group of pirates began attacking villages and farms on Tehuzaa. The government tasked the militia with bringing the pirates down. After they raided a village, my squadron tracked them back to their hidden base in the wastelands. They had constructed their lair into the side of a mountain so satellites couldn’t see them.

“Despite the small size of their targets, the pirates had a substantial amount of firepower. My squadron commander hadn’t called for support, mostly to reserve the credit for himself, but also because he thought we would be facing a handful of antiquated fighters. Instead, we found ourselves alone against two squadrons of Valnoos. You see, we later learned these pirates were after the militia, not the villages. They wanted to provoke us into a fight to capture equipment or to ransom prisoners to the government. Though we never proved it, everyone in the militia believed the Lingaar were sponsoring the pirates.

“As you can imagine, things turned quite ugly for my squadron. I found myself in combat for the first time, caught up in a swirling mass of fighters trying to destroy each other. I lost sight of my best friend, my wingman Yee Xolii, and fought alone until I spotted his plane with a pirate Valnoo right on his tail. I can see the missile leaping from the pirate fighter’s wing almost as if it were yesterday. Yee never had a chance.”

Saa stopped, tears welling up in his eyes. “When Yee’s plane exploded, something inside of me snapped. I fought like a man possessed, until the pirates began to retreat. I went after Yee’s killer, taking down his plane with a burst of pellets to the engine. The pilot ejected safely, I could only watch his parachute start drifting towards the ground and freedom. I watched him, the hate in my heart growing with every second until…”

Saa seemed unable to finish the thought, his mouth moving soundlessly. Kee asked, “You killed him?”

Saa nodded. “I circled around behind him and put a burst of pellets right into his chest. The shells were meant for tearing open the armor of aircraft, the pirate’s body just exploded in mid-air. When I returned to base, my mechanic found…fluids smeared all over my plane.”

Kee stared at the old man with shock. “How…how did you get over it?”

Saa shook his head. “I never got over it, just like you will never get over what you did. The reason I told you my story is because of what I learned afterward.” Saa seemed agitated, pacing around the room with his hands fluttering for a minute before he continued. “I realized I had been trained as a soldier to follow orders, to bomb targets, to shoot down enemy planes, but never how to deal with the loss of a comrade or the guilt of killing another man. I learned that the difference between a soldier and a warrior is learning to be a master of your emotions. Do you understand?”

“Not really,” Kee answered.

“Think about this way: a soldier has a set of rules to follow, a code of conduct established by commanders and taught through training. A warrior also has a code of conduct, taught only on the field of battle. A warrior learns to kill when he must, to fight with honor, and to give quarter. Every man or woman going into battle starts off as a soldier, but only a few ever become warriors. Most people become so riddled with guilt they can never fight again, some going so far as to commit suicide. Still others find carnage so intoxicating they become bloodthirsty maniacs. You, Kee, stand at the fork in road, you must choose your path.”

“You want me to love war, to love killing?”

“No, of course not,” Saa paused. “Why are you fighting this war, Kee?”

“To restore peaceful relations between Lingaa and Tehuzaa.”

“That is the reason the politicians use, the high-minded ideals they toss about to draw support for their cause. Why are you fighting this war, Kee?”

Kee thought about the question for a minute before answering, “To protect my home and family from the Tehuzaar.”

Saa nodded with approval. “Yes, you fight for your family, not because you want to kill people.”

“You’re saying it’s all right to kill, so long as I have a good reason,” Kee said sarcastically.

“In a perfect world, we would never be put in a position to kill another person. However, this is not a perfect world, so we are forced to participate in wars we may not approve of.” Saa sat down on the chair next to the bed. “We both know this war was started by the politicians on Lingaa and Tehuzaa. Their ridiculous tariffs, overblown rhetoric, and convoluted schemes roused the long-dormant fears of Lingaar and Tehuzaar. You, your fiancée, even the man you shot did not ask for this war, yet it came anyway, so now you must fight. Is this starting to make sense?”

“I think so. You’re saying that we all have to do things we don’t to do, but which me must do.”

“Yes. You are in a position where you must kill, but it does not have to destroy you. If you choose the path of the warrior, you will come out of this war with your spirit intact.”

“I will.”

A smile cracked Saa’s face. “I know you will, Kee. For now, get some rest. Even warriors need sleep.”

“Thanks, Saa…for everything.” Saa nodded, leaving Kee alone to think about everything the old man had said. For the first time, he felt calm as he drifted off into a deep sleep, the sounds of war outside seeming a million miles away.

***

He awoke to find Saa shaking him by the shoulders. “What’s going on?” Kee asked.

“The Tehuzaar have taken over the city. They’re rounding up any Lingaar left, I have to get you to safety.”

“Where?”

“I’ll take you down to the old storm shelter, they shouldn’t look down there.” Saa held out his hand. “Just try to stay off that leg.”

Kee nodded, taking the proffered hand. Pain flashed before his eyes as Saa hoisted him off the bed and into a roughly upright position. Kee leaned against the old man, keeping his left leg off the floor, but he still felt a sharp pain with each shuffling step.

For the first time, Kee saw more of Saa’s house than the bedroom. They walked down a short hallway, into a shabby living room packed with old books, dead plants, and frayed furniture. Thick brown curtains, which appeared to have been white at one time, covered two large windows, allowing only a thin shaft of light into the room. The kitchen, connected to the living room by a small dining area, was in a similar state of disrepair. “Nice place,” Kee teased.

“There is a war on, you know,” Saa shot back with mock-indignation. “No, my wife always did all the cleaning, I could never be counted on to pick up after myself. This way.” Saa steered Kee towards a wooden spiral staircase. Each halting step down the stairs brought on fresh waves of agony for Kee, though he managed to choke down the screams building inside of him. When they reached the end of the stairway, Kee found himself in a huge room paneled with rich dark wood, dilapidated leather chairs resting against one wall underneath a huge whitewashed window. An ancient desk guarded the passage to a door across the room.

“What is this place?” Kee asked.

“This is my old clinic. I closed my practice about five years ago…after my wife died.” Saa’s face looked pained as he looked around the room. “The building was originally a department store. After it went out of business I converted the lower floor into my clinic and the upper floor into an apartment for my family. Come on.”

They shambled past the reception desk, through the door, and down a long hallway. Kee saw examination rooms still stocked with medical equipment, an eerie chill running through him. Saa stopped at the end of the hall, looking for a long time to his left. Kee could tell by the shelves of reference books, the paper-laden desk, and degrees on the wall that Saa was looking at his old office. He left the old man to his own thoughts, until Saa’s head suddenly snapped around as though he had been struck. “Let’s go.”

Saa guided Kee across the hall into a supply room, the metal shelves still well-stocked. Kee recognized the door to the alley right away, knowing this is where Saa had found him and saved him from the Tehuzaar soldiers. Saa helped Kee stand against one of the shelves, where he clutched the shelf with both hands and kept his left leg elevated while Saa lifted up a part of the floor with a loud creak.

“What is that?” Kee asked.

“I don’t suppose on Lingaa you have much need for storm cellars. Here, though, the storms can get pretty fierce, so it’s best to have somewhere to hide.”

The stairway to the cellar would not accommodate two people, forcing Kee to hop down the stairs on his good leg. Saa flicked on a bare light bulb, which provided just enough light for Kee to see a wooden shelf crammed with rusting cans of food and discarded tools scattered on the floor. Saa helped Kee onto a rickety military-issue cot sitting next to an ancient, dormant furnace. “You just lie here and rest until I get back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see a friend about getting a sledge to take you out of town. I shouldn’t be long. If anyone should barge in to have a look around, try to hide.”

“Right,” Kee replied without confidence.

“Don’t worry, I’ll try to be quick.” Saa turned off the light and disappeared up the stairs, the panel creaking over the cellar door, sealing Kee into the tomb. He sat up against the wall, listening to Saa’s footsteps fade into the alley, followed by an uncomfortable silence. Though he tried to fight it, tried to stay awake, Kee fell into a light doze.

When he woke, he heard gruff voices shouting above him.

***

Kee couldn’t make out the words, but he could hear the angry tones followed by objects crashing to the floor above his head. Tehuzaar soldiers had to be following up on his disappearance from the alley, ransacking Saa’s office for any trace of a Lingaar fugitive. How much longer before they discovered the storm cellar and found him?

He groped in the dark for some kind of weapon to use for a feeble last stand, settling on a slimy piece of pipe. He hefted the pipe, swinging it a few times to get used to its weight. The footsteps and voices above him started to fade, no doubt the searchers were moving along to other parts of the office. Maybe they won’t find the storm cellar, Kee thought. An instant later, he heard someone tapping on the supply room floor. Someone above him was looking for the cellar door, the taps coming ever closer to the stairway.

The pipe in his hand did little to reassure him as he thought of an armed group of soldiers coming down the stairs to flush him out. They could shoot him well out of the pipe’s range, and even if he could hide it to use in an ambush, he would probably be able to club one trooper over the head before he took a burst of pellets in the chest. Instead of trying to fight, he had to find somewhere to hide.

He scrambled to remember the layout of the storm cellar when Saa had led him down, his mind sticking on the furnace standing only a meter or so away. If he could manage to get behind the furnace, he might be able to stay out of sight, unless the Tehuzaar made a thorough search of cellar. He heard a shout come from near the cellar door and knew he didn’t have any more time for decisions.

Using the pipe as a makeshift crutch, Kee levered to his feet. He felt a sharp stab of pain radiating from his injured leg up to his clenched teeth. He shuffled forward, holding his crutch out to find the back of the furnace. The cellar door creaked open, shafts of light penetrating the darkness to reveal the narrow space between the furnace and the wall. Kee threw himself into the gap, biting down on his lip until he could feel blood in his mouth to keep from screaming. At least three pairs of heavy footsteps descended the stairs, followed by a long period of uncomfortable silence.

Sweat trickled into Kee’s eyes as he waited for some sign that he’d been discovered. The footsteps began to move around the room, objects smashing against the wall to his right and left. He clutched the pipe with both hands, the pain in his leg turning to a steady throbbing until he felt he would pass out. The footsteps came closer, a pair of boots visible next to the cot. It wouldn’t be long before the Tehuzaar saw the gap between the furnace and wall, probing the shadowy recess to find him cowering with only a moldy pipe for a weapon. In a moment of pain and panic-induced hysteria, he imagined the Tehuzaar soldiers so consumed with laughter at the pitiful sight that he could get the drop on them and escape.

Another set of footsteps began down the stairway, only these seemed much lighter. “What is going on here?” Saa demanded.

Much to his relief, Kee saw the boots by the cot move away towards the staircase. “Are you the owner of this building?” A gruff voice asked.

“I am, and I demand to know what you are doing.”

“We’re searching for a Lingaar fugitive, last spotted in this area. We believe he may have taken shelter in this building.”

“Nonsense! I’ve been here ever since the fighting started, I would have noticed an intruder by now.”

“I’m sorry sir, but we didn’t see you when we began our search. You mind telling us where you were?” the gruff voice demanded.

“I was out looking for some supplies. You know, food, water, and so forth. I’ll be damned if I could find anything, though. Maybe you boys could tell me where I could find some.”

“There are aid stations set up outside the city, we could arrange for you to be taken there if you like,” the soldier said sarcastically.

“And leave my home? You must be joking. Now, if you gentlemen could get on your way, I can start cleaning up this mess you made,” Saa scolded.

The footsteps started up the stairs, a voice growling, “If we find out he was here, old man, we’ll have you put before a firing squad for treason. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly, young man. Now, off you go.”

Kee waited long after the footsteps had retreated up the stairs before he let out the breath he’d been holding in. He still worried about the soldiers coming back, so he waited behind the furnace for Saa to tell him to come out. At some point he must have lost consciousness, because he found himself waking up in the bedroom once belonging to Saa’s son.

“What happened?” Kee asked.

“I found you behind the furnace, shaking and with a pretty high fever. You’ve been out like a light for three days now, but it looks like the fever is gone.”

“Have the soldiers come back?”

“No, no, it’s just been you and me.” The old man’s expression hardened, his voice turning cold. “Kee, we have to get you out of here. The Lingaar still hold Yurkii, if I can get you there, they should be able to arrange for your ship to pick you up. I won’t lie to you, there are roadblocks on every entrance to the city, it won’t be easy to sneak you past.”

“Saa, you’ve done so much for me already, I can’t ask you to take this kind of risk.”

“What risk? I’m an old man, my wife and son are both dead, all I have left is an empty office in a ruined city. If they shoot me for helping you, what will I miss?”

Kee smiled in spite of the pain he felt in his heart. “I don’t think I can ever repay you for all you’ve done for me.”

“It’s I who should repay you. The time we spent together brought back so many feelings I thought were lost forever after my son died.” Saa leaned down, wrapping his arms around Kee’s shoulders. Kee could feel the old man’s tears against his cheek, mingling with his own. “Thank-you for coming into my life.”

Saa straightened, silently backing out of the room. Kee wondered if the old man was embarrassed, but Saa returned a few minutes later with a fresh set of clothes. “Put those on and then I’ll help you down to the sledge in the alley. We haven’t much time to waste.”

***

Kee slouched in the passenger seat of the sledge, pulling a threadbare cap low on his forehead. He felt conspicuous riding next to a Tehuzaar, riding through the ruins of a city occupied only by enemy troops, despite Saa turning the window tint to almost opaque. He reviewed their skimpy plan again, his mind searching for some kind of alternative. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of anything to do but try to bluff the guards to let them pass. They would have X-ray and infrared sensors at the roadblocks to search for anyone trying to stowaway, so if Kee hid in the trunk or under the backseat of the sledge he would only cast suspicion on himself. Seeing the roadblock ahead, he felt his stomach churn. He looked and talked too much like a Lingaar to pass for a Tehuzaar or even a native half-breed. Saa smiled over at him, but Kee did not feel reassured as they reached the barricade.

The roadblock looked imposing with a tank, a handful of troop transports, and at least a platoon of armed Tehuzaar soldiers arrayed around a hastily constructed gate stretching across three lanes of highway. The sledge stopped just in front of the barricade, one of the Tehuzaar militiamen motioning for Saa to lower the window. The soldier leaned down, asking, “Can I see your identification, gentlemen?”

Kee reached into the left pocket of his pants, pulling out the wallet he’d found there. He didn’t know how Saa had gotten a fake ID made, but he doubted the forgery would pass for real. Nevertheless, he handed his identification to the guard and prayed to all sixteen Lingaar gods for protection. The soldier scanned both IDs with a minicomp before returning them. “Might I ask where you are going, Doctor Pidlii?”

“To my wife’s sister’s house in Zarjuu. As you might expect, we really don’t feel comfortable here anymore.”

The guard did not seem convinced by Saa’s cover story. “Where is your wife, sir?”

“I’m afraid she passed on five years ago.”

“Was she a Lingaar?”

“It’s none of your business, but yes she was.”

The soldier nodded, his expression hardening. “Doctor, my orders are to take custody of any persons of Lingaar descent. I can let you pass, but your son here will have to come with me.”

“Now hold on, young man, where would you take my son?”

“I don’t have that information, Doctor Pidlii.”

Saa lowered his voice to a whisper Kee had to strain just to hear. “I’ll tell you where they’ll take him: to an internment camp where he will spend the rest of the war being tortured and used as slave labor, if he even survives that long! How can you ask me to do such a thing to my only child?”

“Sir, if you resist I will have to arrest you both.”

“Then that’s what you’ll have to do!” Saa shouted.

Kee touched the old man on the arm. “Dad, it’s all right. I’ll go with them.”

“No, if they take you, they have to take me too.”

“I’m sorry, Doctor Pidlii, but I have my orders,” the guard interjected.

“Your orders?” Saa sneered. “You would make my son suffer because of your orders?”

The guard started to look uncomfortable, Saa’s barbs getting through. “I’m sorry, sir, but if I let him go and he joins the Lingaar side, it would be my fault.”

“Let me explain something to you, young man. In medical school I was trained to help all people who need my help, not just those who are the same religion as I am. My son—studying to become a doctor before this war broke out—has seen me work on both Lingaar and Tehuzaar patients since he was a little boy. He knows not to discriminate. Now, let us go so we can go to Zarjuu to help people.”

The soldier looked about to speak, but he wordlessly backed away from the sledge and motioned for the gate to be moved aside. A pair of burly soldiers slid the gate back so the sledge could proceed down the highway, leaving the ruined city behind. Kee leaned back in his seat, his heart thumping like a drum. “Don’t you feel a little guilty for lying to the guard?” He asked.

“Why would I?”

“Because when I get back to my ship I’ll have to kill more Tehuzaar.”

“You don’t have to. You and I could go somewhere to lay low until the war is over.”

“I can’t, not as long as the Tehuzaar threaten my home.”

“I know, but it was worth a try. You’ve come to mean quite a lot to me, Kee, I’m not sure I can bear to see you go.”

Kee turned to look at Saa. He pleaded, “Then come with me. I’m sure my ship could use another doctor.”

“You think they would accept a Tehuzaar physician?”

“Why not? I did,” Kee replied with a nervous grin.

Saa laughed, “You didn’t have a choice.”

“Look, you can hide out somewhere or you can do something to help people. Like you said, it doesn’t matter if they’re Lingaar or Tehuzaar.”

Saa swerved the sledge off the highway towards Yurkii. He seemed to be considering Kee’s words, weighing the possibilities in his mind. He finally turned to Kee, asking, “Do you think we could convince your superiors to take me in?”

Kee laughed, “You convinced the soldiers searching your apartment to go away and that guard to let us pass, don’t worry about my superiors.”

“Well then, I guess it’s settled.”

They continued in silence for a long time, watching the sun dip below the distant gray horizon. Despite their levity, Kee could see Saa still wrestling with the decision. Maybe I’m being too selfish, asking him to come with me, Kee thought. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” he blurted out.

“No, I want to come. I was just thinking about when my son died, all the pain I still feel. If you’re killed, it will be like losing him all over again.”

Kee reached over to pat the old man on the shoulder. “Then I just won’t die.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” Kee could see the lights from the perimeter around Yurkii ahead. He realized his prayers at the roadblock had been answered, just not in the way he had thought. The gods hadn’t sent some divine messenger, they hadn’t sent bolts of lightning, nor had they even whispered commands into the ears of his enemies. No, they had sent him an old Tehuzaar doctor who loved him like a son, and who he in turn loved like a father.

“When this is all over, you’ll have to come back to Lingaa with me to meet my family and Taa…if she’s still alive.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure she is and if your family is anything like you, I’d be delighted to meet them.”

“Well I guess we have a problem then.”

They laughed all the way to the checkpoint guarding the entrance to Yurkii.

Epilogue

Kee swam into Squadron Commander Rinwaa’s office, his leg still burning with pain even after two weeks aboard the Inrii. He’d seen Saa about it yesterday, but the doctor said everything was coming along nicely. He hovered in front of Rinwaa’s metal desk, which was bolted down and magnetized so nothing would float away from it. After exchanging salutes, Rinwaa got down to business. “Pilot Kee, your Tehuzaar friend tells me you’ll be ready for active duty in another week, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Before I get to the reason I called you in here, I want you to know I do not approve of pilots who disobey my orders. I trust it will not happen again?”

“No, sir.”

Rinwaa nodded. “The reason I called you in here is because even after your unfortunate incident, I am promoting you to Flight Leader.”

“Thank-you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me, Flight Leader Henlaa, with our recent losses I have no choice. I expect you to take this new responsibility seriously. Command wants us to pin the Tehuzaar here as long as possible, which could be months or even years without reinforcement. I can’t afford to lose people foolishly, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m assigning you two junior pilots formerly of the 23rd and having you bunk with them. Have your personal items transferred by 0600 tomorrow. Dismissed.”

Kee threw Rinwaa a salute then swam out of the office and back to the quarters he had once shared with Duu Roncaa. Bii and Duu’s things were already packed up, moved to a storage locker somewhere until the ship returned to Lingaa, whenever that happened. He floated up to his sleeping sack, grabbing his minicomp off the overhead shelf. Thinking of Bii and Saa, he decided to write a letter to his parents, to put in words what he had never said to them.

***

Dear Mom and Dad:

Bii Honuu was killed just over a week ago. I never thought I would have to write those words. All this time I knew it could happen, but I never wanted to believe it. Maybe I’ve been too arrogant to believe Bii and I could die, that we were somehow immune to the death all around us.

In the past week, so many things have happened that I want to tell you about. The first, the most important, is saying I love you. I know I’ve never said it before, and a lot of times I never acted as though I did, but I have always loved both of you. Coming close to death on a daily basis has made me realize that I might not get another opportunity to express how I feel. I hope you can forgive me for being such a brat, especially during my teenage rebellion phase. I caused so much unneeded grief for both of you, it’s a wonder you didn’t disown me.

I also wanted to tell you about the man who saved me more times than I can count this past week. His name is Saa Pidlii and he took care of me after I was shot down during a mission. He bound up my wounds, hid me from Tehuzaar troops, and smuggled me back to Lingaar lines at great risk to his own life. He is also a Tehuzaar doctor. If not for him, I would be in a Tehuzaar prison or dead right now. I hope after this war is over you’ll be able to meet him and thank him for saving my life.

I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again, though I pray it will be soon. Until that day, just know I am alive and well. I think of the two of you, as well as Mii and Vuu, everyday, and more than anything, I want to come home to all of you. Whenever I do see you again, you may not recognize me. As much as I wish it were not so, the boy who left you to fight this war is gone. I’m not sure what I have changed into, but I do know the man I want to become. You can rest assured, though, that no matter what else changes, there is always one thing that can never change.

I am your son.

Love,

Kee

The Divine War, Part I

2007-06-13T10:19:00.000-07:00

Author's Note: This was written in 2002 as part of a series that never got past the first two parts. Anyway, it was an attempt to do a space opera-type thing like the "First Contact" and "Rebirth" series but on perhaps a smaller scale. This focuses on a system at war and how this divides a pair of lovers and so forth. It's here in the fanfic section because I didn't really want it in the short story section. It's not a fanfic really.

The Divine War

Part I: Peacekeeper

War is thus divine in itself, since it is a law of the world. War is divine through its consequences of a supernatural nature, which are as much general as particular.... War is divine in the mysterious glory that surrounds it and in the no less inexplicable attraction that draws us to it.... War is divine by the manner in which it breaks out.
--Joseph De Maistre (1753–1821)

Prologue

He sat on the cold stone bench, staring down from the gallery at the assembled governors below. There was a time when he would have been among them, sitting on the raised dais next to the council president, but it had been made clear to him a month ago that he was no longer welcome on the debate floor. It was just as well, since most of the governors had lost interest in listening to pleas for reconciliation.

A short, pudgy man with a perpetually red face stood before the desks of the sixteen governors. He raised his arms, holding them aloft until all attention was focused on him. “My friends, we have received copies of the latest Lingaar ploy to destroy Tehuzaar business interests. They are raising taxes on all Tehuzaar imports by fifty percent and establishing mandatory security inspections of any Tehuzaar vessel to enter a Lingaar port.” The announcement was met with scattered boos and hisses.

“Their aim is clear: to make the cost of doing business so high for Tehuzaar manufacturers they will never be able to penetrate Lingaar markets. Our businesses will be smothered by taxes and regulations, forced to sell out to the Lingaar conglomerates. Once they have gained control of our businesses, they will next try to influence this very council to pass laws in their favor. They will quietly take over all that we have built over the last two centuries, until we are finally forced to bow before their shrines.”

“This is not just any trade bill, this is the opening salvo of a war to deny sovereignty to the Tehuzaar people! This is the first step on the road to damnation! We must take action, now, to stop this beast before it swallows us whole!”

In the gallery, he had seen enough. He rose to his feet, stepping to the polished while railing, allowing all the governors to see the ceremonial green cloak of the Chief Minister. He cleared his throat, his voice booming, “You condemn the Lingaar, Vaa Nolii, but only two months ago you spoke in favor of raising tariffs on all Lingaar imports. Now that our Lingaar cousins have responded in kind, you accuse them of making war on us? Remember what the Tehuu taught us, ‘Vengeance is the spark which sets the whole world ablaze.’ All of you would do well to remember that lesson.”

Vaa Nolii smiled, “You honor us with your presence, Chief Minister, but once again your words condone a course of inaction that will only lead us to ruin. We must stop the Lingaar before their corruption has spread too deeply.”

The Chief Minister shook his head, “How would you stop them? Through war?” Before Nolii could answer, the Chief Minister continued, “Two hundred years ago Jee Jolaa led his people from Lingaar to establish a home for all who worshipped the Tehuu. He did so peacefully, without a single drop of blood being shed between Lingaar and Tehuzaar. Since then there has always been peace between the two worlds. Any who call for war with our Lingaar cousins desecrate the memory of our founder and commit blasphemy against the peaceful teachings of the Tehuu!”

With a snap of his cloak, the Chief Minister strode out of the gallery, not bothering to see the reaction to his comments. He knew Nolii did not yet have the support of all sixteen governors, but he was gaining momentum. Each Tehuzaar job lost meant more voices crying out for action, a war if that was what it would take to put the Lingaar in their place. He found a sledge waiting for him outside, the passenger door popping open at his approach.

His aide was behind the steering yoke, a worried expression on the younger man’s face. “Is something troubling you?” The Chief Minister asked.

“There’s trouble at the temple, sir. Demonstrators, thousands of them, are in the plaza.”

“Is it a peaceful protest?”

“So far, but they seem far more…agitated than the last group.”

The Chief Minister sighed, suddenly feeling far older than his sixty-seven years. “Take me to the back entrance, I need to rest before I can speak to another angry mob.”

The sledge lifted a few inches off the ground, skimming over the old paved streets of Ginluu. The Chief Minister stared at the gleaming towers of polished glass and metal receding to older buildings made of rust-colored yawee stone. The Old City, as it was now called, was where the original settlers had first landed. Many of the homes constructed almost two centuries ago were in terrible disrepair, their owners too poor to pay for repairs. It was tragic to think so much history was simply being allowed to wither and die.

The magnificent Temple of Transference now came into view. The temple, like the other buildings in the Old City, was constructed of yawee, with windows made of polished black havee stone. The temple was meant to be a shining beacon of God’s glory, the center of a new town on a new planet. The building was crescent-shaped, the horns of the crescents folding around a massive tree-lined plaza, which had been the site of the first Tehuzaar marketplace.

The marketplace today was filled with thousands of angry men and women peddling hot words. The Chief Minister could see them only from a distance, but he had seen enough of similar demonstrations in the past months to know what was happening. Much like Vaa Nolii, there would be people screaming for action against the Lingaar. He was growing so weary of the bickering, the fighting against men like Nolii, who so readily yearned for war.

The sledge turned down an alley, the protestors fading from view. The vehicle stopped at the little-used rear entrance to the temple. The Chief Minister did not wait for his aide to open the door, as was customary, but simple climbed out of the sledge and heaved open the rear door to the temple. He went through the kitchen, which was empty, all the cooks having already left for the day, and down a corridor to a wooden door similar to the rear entrance of the temple.

He closed the heavy wooden door behind him, his nose assaulted at once by the musty odor that always hung over his private rooms. His aide compared the smell to that of decaying flesh, but to him it was a constant reminder of those who had served as Chief Minister before him. The corridor not only bore the scents of those long-dead individuals, but also their portraits along the grimy red stone walls. As he strode down the corridor, the presence of the familiar aromas and portraits gave him strength.

He heard the familiar creak as he opened his bedroom door, grateful for the chance to be alone with his thoughts. He straddled his favorite meditation cushion, the purple one his mother had given him almost sixty years ago for passing the Test of Wisdom to become a member of the church. Other cushions were more comfortable and fit his body better, but the purple cushion was familiar, like an old friend. Even through his leggings he could feel the grooves worn into the soft fabric of the saddle-shaped cushion.

His eyes came to rest on a painting hanging on the wall in front of him. The painting was as old as the Temple of Transference itself, created by an unknown artist to dedicate the moment when God revealed Himself to Jee Jolaa on Mount Tolii. In the painting, a pillar of light split the gray, predawn sky, flooding over the tall silhouette of Jee Jolaa. It was the moment of Transference, when the One and Only God, the Tehuu, had given His wisdom to His servants.

That revelation was the beginning of a perilous journey for Jolaa and his followers to what was now known as Tehuzaa. The image never failed to steady his nerves, reminding him of what he stood for, and the trials his people endured.

Over the last thirty years he thought those trials were nearing an end. The Chief Ministers before him, to limit corruption by the Lingaar, had worked to keep Tehuzaa an agrarian society, but he knew it was a policy, which would always keep the Tehuzaar as second-class citizens to the Lingaar. The only way his people could become equals was to encourage manufacturing, trade, and banking. He had established entrepreneurship grants with Ministry funds, and almost immediately the program was successful. Trade routes were established, factories built, and financial markets created. As a result, his people became more prosperous and relations between Tehuzaar and Lingaar became friendlier. Over time, a standard of shipping regulations were set up, a united military force was created to keep the peace, a treaty was signed so each government officially recognized the other. For a time it seemed his dream of a system-wide society working for the greater good would be realized, but now it was all starting to fall apart.

He turned away from the painting of the moment of Transference, closing his eyes. The events of the day came back to him once again. How much longer before mobs like that one outside turn violent? How much longer until the threats made by Nolii become real? The unsettling thoughts kept him from achieving his usual harmony. At the time he most needed to feel the presence of God, to hear His wisdom, he could not. Perhaps we have all lost our way to God, he thought.

A tremor in the meditation cushion caused him to open his eyes and look around in surprise. The entire room was shaking, the painting of Jee Jolaa crashing to the floor, its ancient wooden frame cracking when it struck the stone floor. There had never been a quake in the area, nor were any storms predicted for the night. The room continued to shake, but now he could hear a distant rumbling like thunder.

He hurried to the door to see what was happening. He saw a wave of hungry orange flames devouring the entrance to his private rooms and all of the portraits on the walls. Before he could react, he was thrown a dozen meters by an invisible shockwave. His head struck the stone hard, reaching back he could feel blood oozing from the back of his skull. He tried to sit up, but found his body would not respond. The air around him became hotter and hotter, until he could feel his skin blistering from the heat. The pain mounted, becoming unbearable. God help us all, he thought before he passed into oblivion.

Chapter One

Mount Tolii’s blue-gray surface soared into the pale blue sky, shafts of sunlight striking the brilliant white snow at the peak to complete an image more beautiful than any painting. Kee Henlaa was moved by the view of Lingaa’s most famous mountain, but his fiancée continued her stony silence. The irony in Kee’s mind was Taa Colee, a Tehuzaar, viewed the mountain as sacred ground. If even this sight cannot move her, then there must be something seriously wrong. “What’s wrong, dear? I can’t remember the last time when this view didn’t bring tears to your eyes,” Kee tried to keep his tone light, but Taa grimaced anyway.

She took his hand, but her expression remained tight. “I’m sorry, but all those protests in Brenfaa, and the news of similar ones back home have me worried. What if something happens and violence breaks out? What if someone starts a war over these trade disputes?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. We’ve made too much progress to go back to the bad old days over a few tariffs.”

He felt her squeeze his hand, could see that her mood was starting to soften. “You’re probably right. It's just a bunch of saber rattling. You want to go sledding?”

“You know, bodysledding is illegal on these hills,” Kee pointed out with a grin.

“Why do you think I like it?” Taa winked and led him to the closet. She pulled out the two black jumpsuits, keeping one for herself and tossing the other to Kee. The front of each suit reflected the light, coated with a nonstick substance which would let the two of them coast down the hills as easily as any sled. Taa fished out two matching black helmets made of a tough plastic to protect their skulls during a collision. Kee would have preferred his flight helmet, but it couldn’t leave the base. He slipped on the jumpsuit over his clothes and put the helmet snugly on his skull, flipping down the tinted visor to keep snow out of his eyes.

They walked out to the lobby, careful to slip past the man working the front desk of the lodge. The lodge prided itself on its wealthy clientele, usually allowing them to do most anything they wanted, but so many people had been killed or paralyzed from bodysledding accidents, the lodge had been forced to ban it for liability reasons. Kee could understand and knew his parents would not approve of him taking up such a dangerous sport, especially since if he were caught his family would lose the room they rented year-round, but he also knew how much Taa enjoyed it. After the funk she’d been in for most of their two days of leave, he would risk a fatal injury if a bodysledding run down the hill would make her happy.

Once they made it out the door, walked out to the sled hill, where it became obvious they were not the only ones ignoring the ban on bodysledding. Kee couldn’t help but notice some of the couples getting ready to launch themselves down the hill gave he and Taa a strange glance. It was not unheard of to see a Tehuzaar-Lingaar couple, but such unions were generally between lower-income people than the lodge’s wealthy patrons. Even without speaking, Taa’s black hair, tan skin, and tall frame stood out in sharp contrast to Kee’s stocky frame, red-blond hair, and pale skin. Like the rest of her family, Taa had spent most of her time working in the hot sun while Kee was cooped up in classrooms. It was a difference, which drew curious glances no matter where they went. Kee returned the scornful glances with a hard stare hidden by his tinted visor.

If Taa noticed any change in the atmosphere around her, she gave no sign, leading Kee by the hand to the crest of the hill. He watched her survey the slope, squatting down to determine where any rough patches in the snow may lie. Once she was satisfied, they took a few steps back to give themselves room to build up speed for a launch. The trick to any successful bodysled launch was to get a good running start, then to hit the ground with as little force as possible. Most amateurs would wind up flopping into the snow, killing their momentum, but after some practice it was possible to hit the slope at the right angle to go careening down the hill. Taa and Kee were both experienced; they sailed down the hill side-by-side, clutching hands. Professional pairs could trade positions or perform spins, but Taa and Kee were not that experienced yet.

Kee let out a whoop as he raced down the hill, regretting it when his mouth filled with snow. The speed, the wind whipping against his face, the knowledge that only a jumpsuit and his clothes separated him from the snow made the experience exhilarating. About three-quarters down the slope, he shifted his body to the left, dragging he and Taa off the track. They shot over a snow bank, coming to a stop less than a meter from a thick tree trunk. “What are you do…” Taa couldn’t finish the sentence, Kee rolling over on top of her, his lips pressing against hers.

“I couldn’t wait another minute to do that,” Kee replied with a wink.

Taa slapped him hard on the shoulder, which nearly made Kee cry out in pain, but her laughter eased his suffering. “You always were too impulsive.”

He planted another kiss before replying, “Come on, that’s what you love about me.”

“Oh really?” She hit him point-blank with a snowball, silencing any response he might have made.

Kee made a big show of scraping up a huge handful of snow, packing it into a snowball the size of his head. “Now you’re going to get it!” He hefted the huge snowball over his head, but before he could bring it down, she hit him in the face with a glob of powder, toppling him. They frolicked in the snow like little children until the sun started to go down, only then did they make their way back up the hill to watch the sunset.

The sled hill was empty now, allowing them to sit at the summit to watch as the sun began to dip over the horizon. Mount Tolii was already plunged in darkness, but Kee could see Taa’s eyes searching for its snowy summit, the sadness returning to her face. “Sometimes I wished it never happened,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Sometimes I wish Jee Jolaa had never heard the word of God on Mount Tolii. If he hadn’t, we wouldn’t have all these problems right now.”

“Come on, don’t talk like that.”

“Don’t you ever wish there were no religions? Don’t you ever wish you and I could go somewhere without people staring?”

Kee took her hand, “None of that stuff matters. All that matters is how much you and I love each other.”

She smiled, giving him a quick kiss before saying, “There you go again. I’m trying to feel sorry for myself and you have to go and make me feel better.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Hmmmm, you’re very good at it.”

He took her hand, helping her to her feet. “Why don’t we go inside and I’ll show you something else I’m good at.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body close to his. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her body, the softness of her hair, the sweetness of her lips. It was a moment he wished would never end, a moment he could savor forever, but after a minute he felt her pull away. “Thank-you,” she whispered. He was speechless as she led him back to their room, locking the door behind them.

***

Kee woke up to the sound of someone pounding on the door and shouting something. He checked next to him to see Taa still asleep, looking like a goddess. He made sure not to wake her as he stumbled from the bed, grabbing a robe from the back of the bathroom door. The pounding and shouting were becoming louder and more insistent; Kee recognized the voice of the lodge manager. He threw the door open, putting a finger to his lips to call for quiet. “Is something wrong?”

“I have an urgent message for you and…your guest.” The manager handed Kee a folded piece of paper. He gave the manager a substantial tip before disappearing back inside his room, his heart pounding.

“What’s that?” Taa asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“It’s a coded message from the base,” Kee answered, sitting down at the antique writing desk in the living room. He activated his minicomp, feeling the familiar sting as the computer scanned his retina. Once his identity was confirmed, he slid his security card into the minicomp. The encryption chip in the card would only work on a machine with his identity. If he tried to put his security card into a minicomp that he was not logged into, or tried to tamper with the chip in any way, the entire card would turn to slag.

Kee took the piece of paper from the lodge manager and held it to the screen. The text was scanned, the characters running through the encryption chip, which translated it into actual words. “They’ve canceled all leaves, we have to get back to the base immediately,” Kee announced, though he suspected Taa had already read the message on the screen.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Something must have happened,” Kee reached over for the remote to the vidscreen, flipping to a news channel. He heard a gasp from Taa and read the headline, “Tehuzaar landmark bombed” below an image of a smoldering stone building. He turned the sound up so they could hear the reporter at the scene.

“Last evening, Tehuzaar time, an explosive device destroyed most of the Temple of Transference in Ginluu. At the time, thousands of Tehuzaar protesting the latest trade dispute were in the plaza just outside the temple. Hundreds were killed by the blast, many more wounded. The Chief Minister of the Tehuzaar was in the temple at the time of the attack, but his body has yet to be located. We will provide more details as they become available.”

Kee looked up at Taa, could see the tears running down her cheeks. “How could someone do such a terrible thing?”

He stood up, letting her fall into his arms. “I don’t know. I’ll pack up our stuff and get a sledge to take us to the base.

“All right,” she replied, her voice faint.

He didn’t want to leave her standing there, watching the news coverage, but at the same time, if they didn’t return to the base soon, it would be considered desertion. He could hear her soft sobs as he rifled through the closets, throwing clothes into cases with reckless abandon. Once he did a final check to make sure nothing was being left behind, he hauled the cases out to the living room, where Taa was still rooted in the same place.

When she heard him, she raced into his arms. One look at the vidscreen told him why: the body of the Chief Minister had been found. “He was a man of peace, he wanted to bring us together, why would anyone kill him?” Taa whispered.

“I don’t know,” Kee replied, suddenly feeling like an idiot for not being able to comfort her, to be able to provide answers in a world that in an instant seemed to have gone mad.

***

It took a considerable amount of cajoling and bribery to convince the sledge driver to take them to the base. Everyone was scared about the bombing, and the possibility of another, this time on Lingaar. The entire hundred-kilometer-trip, the withered old driver complained about risking his neck. Kee found out the hard way that not even money could stop the man’s incessant whining.

The sledge skimmed over the rough mountain roads, onto the highway leading to the base, the driver’s yapping the only sound in the vehicle. Taa looked out the window, her mind seeming to be a million miles away, and perhaps it was. Kee knew what the temple meant to Taa, to Tehuzaar all through the system. Jee Jolaa and his followers had built it after landing on Tehuzaa, it was where Jolaa himself had lived until his death. Kee could only imagine the furor that would erupt if any of the Lingaar shrines on Lingaa were bombed. While he was not devoutly religious, he understood the temples and shrines were symbols of pride, of respect, to the gods or God, whatever the case may be.

He looked over at his stricken fiancée, concerned if she would be able to fly when they got to the base. It’s like she lost a family member, he thought. He squeezed her hand, but she still refused to look at him. In their room at the lodge she had run into his arms, but now there seemed to be a wall between them. He decided to let it go, to allow her to come around at her own pace.

“Hey, flyboy, we’re here. I hope you’re happy,” the grizzled driver snarled.

“Yes, thank-you. Here’s for your trouble,” Kee handed the man a few more bills, hauling the luggage from the seat across from him. Taa opened the door, walked towards the gate as though in a trance. Kee followed a few steps behind, fishing for his identification card, hearing the driver mutter a few curses as the sledge turned and darted away.

He showed his card to the guard at the gate, the woman smiling as he struggled with the cases. “I’ll have a sledge take you to your barracks.”

“Thank-you,” Kee replied, hearing the woman giggling while she ducked inside the gatehouse to call for a base sledge. While he and Taa waited, he could see a pair of Spidlaa fighters roaring off the runways. He was surprised to see rows of light attack missiles beneath the thin blue and white delta wings of the arrowhead-shaped planes. Someone must be spooked to scramble fighters with live ordinance, he thought.

Kee heard a loud screeching sound, turned to see a gunmetal gray sledge barreling towards the gate. The bulbous vehicle nearly flipped over as it made a hard turn and came to a stop only a meter from where Kee stood. A hairless dark brown head emerged from the driver’s side window, the man’s face splitting with a wide grin. “I heard you two lovebirds were called back here. So how did it go?” Kee’s roommate, Bii Honuu, teased.

“I’ll tell you later,” Kee winked at Taa, but she was in no mood to take the bait. Kee set the cases in the back before dropping into the front seat next to Bii. Taa was already in the back seat, staring out the window as she had during the drive back from the lodge. As Bii sent the sledge careening towards the barracks, Kee asked, “So what’s going on around here?”

“Absolutely nothing until about twelve hours ago. Then they sounded the alert siren and assembled everyone in the briefing room to explain what happened. So far we’re just stepping up readiness drills and flying a few show-me drills,” Bii jerked the steering yoke just in time to avoid running over a flight mechanic crossing the street.

“So those two I just saw going up were going to put on a little show for the home crowd?”

Bii snorted, “You know how it is when people get scared. Maybe a few fly-bys will make them feel safer. It’s about the only thing we can do right now.”

“Come on, Bii, you’ve got to know more than that. What’s the unofficial word going around?”

Bii smiled, taking his eyes off the road to look around the passenger compartment. “The word is that a task force will be sent to Tehuzaa to make sure everyone plays nice.”

“So we’re on the docket to be shipped out?”

The sledge came to an abrupt halt in front of the barracks, the vehicle’s occupants thrown hard against their restraints. Bii laughed, “Hey, you didn’t hear that from me, all right?”

Kee clapped his roommate on the shoulder, “Of course not. Wouldn’t want people to think you’re a gossipmonger.” He unsnapped his restraint harness and helped a dazed Taa out of the sledge before unloading the luggage. “I’ll see you later,” he called before the sledge shot away.

“For a pilot, he is a very bad driver,” Taa remarked. Kee laughed harder than necessary, hoping his fiancée’s mood was starting to shift. She took her bags from him, leading the way into her quarters. Once the door was closed, she kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry I haven’t been very good company.”

“No, it’s all right. What happened was terrible, you have a right to feel the way you do.”

They put the luggage down and she kissed him again, this time on the lips. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“Just being here.”

Kee tried to say something in reply, but the alert siren drowned out his words. All he managed to get out was, “We’d better go.”

Chapter Two

It was just as Bii said; the entire 31st Fighter Wing was to be sent to Tehuzaa to ensure peace in the wake of the bombing. “Attention all units, disengage booster units,” Wing Commander Phoquu commanded. Taa, pressed hard into the seat of her Spidlaa fighter by the g-forces of the nearly straight vertical climb from the runway to the atmosphere, fought to move her right arm the necessary six centimeters to trigger the release for the boosters. She heard a pair of thuds, the long booster rockets required to propel the fighters into the atmosphere, falling away. The Spidlaa gained speed from the loss of so much weight; Taa lowered the throttle to make sure she kept enough distance between her fighter and Bii’s ahead of her.

Craning her head to the left, she could see Kee on her wing, he had drifted a little too far from her, but they would tighten up formations once they exited the atmosphere. His face was invisible behind his helmet’s visor, but he waved a gloved hand at her. She ignored the gesture, and reminded herself to chide him again for his lack of discipline. This was a very serious, very dangerous maneuver, no time to be careless.

Ahead of her, she could see Bii’s fighter start to buck and glow red from heat as it entered the Lingaa’s atmosphere. She found herself fighting the same rough winds and heat only moments later, her mind no longer thinking of Kee or Bii, but only of keeping her Spidlaa from spinning out of control. It took a full minute to break through, sweat drenching her entire body, but now the Spidlaa was in open space. She listened closely for any sound of air leaking through the cockpit seals, but everything appeared normal. Bii’s fighter was still ahead of her, she moved into position off his right wing, Kee forming up to the left.

Their destination, the massive carrier Inrii, came into view. Only three of the three-mile long, two-mile wide starships had been built by the Unified Defense Command since its inception. The huge ships, despite their size and prestige as flagships, were not much to look at. The Inrii’s surface was almost entirely flat, except for a slight curve at the bow to aid planes taking off. The spherical shape of the bridge bulged out against the ship’s rear port quarter like some kind of tremendous boil.

“Everyone form up for landing. Many of you have not had the opportunity to land on a carrier, just remember your training and try not to run into anyone,” Wing Commander Phoquu said.

Taa had never flown her Spidlaa in space before, neither had Kee. She looked over to him with concern, but he only waved, oblivious to the danger. They both followed Bii, the squadron forming a single line. Each of the four squadrons would switch over to vertical maneuvering jets, “verts” as they were known, set down on the Inrii’s deck, and taxi to the nearest elevator.

Bii’s flight circled aimlessly over the carrier, waiting for their turn. Finally it was time for Taa’s first carrier landing. She followed Bii’s lead, cutting to her verts, coasting down to the deck. She throttled back just a little late, her landing hitting the deck hard, the Spidlaa bouncing like a spring before it settled on the carrier’s surface. She missed seeing Kee land, but his fighter was next to hers, looking none the worse for wear. Feeling embarrassed over her rough landing, she made sure to ease the Spidlaa onto the elevator without incident.

The three fighters were immersed in darkness as the elevator ground down to the storage hangar. Taa could see the hangar was already filled with other planes, but Bii seemed to know where he was going. He led his flight to the left, all the way to the wall, where the 19th Fighter Squadron was gathered. Someone in a green-helmeted spacesuit used a lighted wand to guide her Spidlaa to its spot. The fighter came close to hitting the wall, but Taa managed to park the plane without incident. She shut down the engines and heaved a sigh of relief. A mechanic tapped on the canopy, she popped it open, worried something was wrong with her plane.

The mechanic extended his hand, smiling from inside his helmet. She shook the proffered hand as he said, “Welcome aboard, sir. I’m Mechanic Caa Yinloo, I’ve been assigned to your squadron during this mission. I’ll take good care of your baby.”

“Thank you, Mechanic Yinloo. I hope she doesn’t give you any trouble,” Taa patted her fighter affectionately.

“I’m sure it won’t,” Caa replied, climbing down the ladder against the side of the fighter and moving to the next in line. Taa found Kee waiting for her at the base of the ladder, she was glad that he at least had the discretion not to try kissing her.

“That was great,” he said, with his usual enthusiasm. “A little scary, though.”

“I know, but at least we made it.”

“I hate to interrupt, but we have to get to the ready room,” Bii announced.

“You know where that is, right?” Kee teased.

“Of course I do, I’m not some rookie like you.”

Kee smiled, “Well lead on, then.”

It became clear after floating through the same corridor three times that Bii did not know where he was going. Taa could understand why, each hallway was the same gunmetal gray, only a colored stripe about halfway down the walls marking any difference. Bii shook his head, “The directions said red to teal to brown to gold.”

“This looks more like maroon to me,” Kee joked.

“Thanks a lot.” Bii looked down the corridor, stopping at a computer terminal built into one side of the wall. After a few keystrokes he heaved a sigh of relief. “It says here that we need to take green to silver to brown, and that should lead us to gold.”

“How do people find their way around in a maze like this?” Taa asked.

“Practice,” Kee answered to a chorus of groans.

“Come on, we’re late enough as it is.” They followed the directions from the computer, finding the ready room without further trouble. Someone had scribbled ‘19th Fighter Squadron’ on the door to the ready room. The room was a cramped space with handles along the walls and ceiling for pilots to anchor themselves to during a briefing, with a projection table located in the middle of the floor, so everyone could have a good view. The only sound in the empty room came from the low hum of the projection table in stand-by mode.

Bii led his two charges through a door off to the side. A short corridor, identical to all the others in the ship, led them to a red-and-white striped door. A square black box next to the door had a sign overhead reading, “All personnel entering the locker room must have proper footwear.” Bii lifted the lid of the box, pulling out three pairs of thin gray slippers.

Taa replaced her boots with the slippers and found herself falling flat on her face. She picked herself off of the deck, realizing too late the slippers were magnetized on the soles. She heard Kee snickering, reminding herself she would have to find some way to get back at him later. For now, she contented herself with giving him a dirty look while she snatched her boots floating over her head.

“What am I ever going to do with you two?” Bii sighed and opened the door.

The other pilots of the squadron were in the locker room, some stowing gear, others showering, and the rest changing into a fresh flight suit after the long trip from Lingaa. Squadron Commander Nuu Rinwaa was zipping up a clean black jumpsuit, spotting Bii, he growled, “Flight Leader Honuu, your flight missed the briefing.”

“I’m sorry sir, but we made a wrong turn,” Bii replied.

Taa could see the others in the squadron stifling laughs, could see them hiding grins behind their hands, but she tried to stand at attention and ignore the humiliation. Rinwaa asked, “Can I expect this kind of sloppiness when we are engaged in battle?”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” The matter settled, Rinwaa’s tone softened. “You didn’t miss much. Just stow your equipment and get cleaned up. We’ll go over lodging arrangements once everyone is finished.”

There were plenty of extra lockers available, enough so that Bii, Kee, and Taa could make sure theirs were next to each other. Taa knew it was not just because they were friends, but that it would help them stay together should they suddenly have to don their flight gear. The black locker Taa chose had an adjustable shelf for her helmet with hooks for her anti-gravity harness and flight suit. She stuffed her parachute on the floor before slamming the door shut. She keyed in a password on the locker’s keypad, hearing the click of a lock.

“Ready to hit the showers?” Kee asked with an irritating grin.

“Yes,” she replied, trying to sound as cold as possible, but he didn’t seem to notice, handing her a generic black jumpsuit. Their own clothes would arrive on a transport later; in the meantime they would have to use the standard-issue naval jumpsuits provided for them. She could see his mischievous expression disintegrate when he saw the rows of separate shower pods. Each silver tube was just big enough for one person, ruining any romantic notions Kee might have had.

Taa slipped into her shower pod, stripping off her flight suit and hanging the black jumpsuit on a hook. Unlike terrestrial showers that relied upon water, the Inrii’s “dry” showers used a combination of sound pulses and suction to clean her body. She ran a long beige wand with a pale green tip through her hair, the wand oozing a gel, which would clean her hair without needing water to rinse out. The goop would take about three hours before it fully evaporated, in the meantime it made her scalp tingle, but she resisted the urge to scratch it.

She slipped into the jumpsuit, feeling glad to be in something not smelling like her own sweat. She found Kee waiting for her, “You know, we aren’t joined at the hip.”

“I know, but I just don’t like letting you out of my sight,” he leaned forward to try sneaking a kiss, but she ducked out of the way.

“You are really hopeless, you know that?”

“It’s what you love about me,” he replied with a wink. She sighed, following him into the locker room. As much as Kee’s lack of discipline annoyed her when they were on duty, his inexhaustible energy and optimism was something she admired. Growing up the daughter of farmers on Tehuzaa, Taa had always been taught the virtues of hard work, attention to detail, and discipline. Kee was a different story altogether. The youngest of three children in a wealthy family, he had been spoiled rotten. She had joined the Unified Defense Command to serve her people, to help bridge the gap between Lingaar and Tehuzaar. Kee admitted to her once that the only reason he signed up for military service was to avoid working for his father. Their differences were what made their relationship so exciting and rewarding to her. Her only worry, though, was Kee would do something stupid during a battle and get himself killed. Even if they weren’t joined at the hip, she couldn’t imagine life without him at her side.

***

A junior bridge officer of the Inrii handed out living arrangements. As was standard procedure, Taa was assigned to the same quarters as the squadron’s only other female pilot, to limit instances of sexual misconduct. Kee and Bii were roommates, just like back on the base, but their room was down the hall, which would make it difficult for even chance encounters.

Luu Mercaa was Taa’s roommate back on the base, and by now had grown used to Kee making lame excuses to see his fiancée. Taa’s relationship with Kee was the only thing Luu held her tongue about. Before the roommates had even started unpacking, Luu was already chirping about the flight, about the ship, about nothing at all. After two years of the constant chatter, Taa had learned to tune Luu out, busying herself instead with unpacking the footlocker, which was waiting for her in her room.

Taa could see the only writing desk in the room was already cluttered with figurines of the sixteen principal Lingaar gods. It always amazed Taa how the Lingaar could keep track of so many deities, could know which one to pray to for each situation. She also wondered how so many gods could restrain from warring with each other over dominance. She had asked Kee about it once, but not being a devout Lingaar, his only answer was the gods had too many other things to worry about to fret over popularity. It seemed next to impossible for so many entities, controlling so many day-to-day affairs, to keep the universe functioning smoothly.

She found her vorlee at the bottom of her footlocker, carefully packed in its wooden box so the crystal at its center would not scratch or shatter. The vorlee was two spheres, an orange crystal sphere set in a casing of blue-gray stone. The object was fastened to a long chain so it could be hung in a window, where sunlight would refract through the crystal to form an intricate pattern of light on a wall. The streaks of light created were symbolic of the Transference, but also served as a focal point to aid meditation. Many Tehuzaar no longer used vorlees, but Taa’s was a gift of her father after she graduated the Test of Faith. The vorlee had been in the family for five generations, the stone and crystal believed to be from Mount Tolii itself. For that reason alone, she made sure to keep the vorlee safe. She gently placed the wooden box on top of her meditation cushion in a transparent mesh bag in the corner of the room, where she could keep an eye on them, but also where any visitors might see them, in order to counterbalance the presence of the Lingaar gods in the room. She heard a snort from Luu, but she had grown accustomed to her roommate’s subtle protests.

Her unpacking finished, Taa floated up to her sleeping sack, zipping it shut. She shifted her body several times, searching for a comfortable way to sleep in zero-G. She settled on sleeping on her back, the back of her head resting against the sack’s padded headrest. Her eyelids were just starting to droop, when predictably enough, the door chime sounded. She muttered a curse, knowing it would be Kee with some story to create an opportunity to say good night to her. Luu was already snoring in her sack, oblivious to the chime’s insistent beep, forcing Taa to unzip and float over to the door. As expected, Kee waited in the corridor, but there was no smile on his face.

“Is there something wrong?” She asked.

“I think you better see this,” he replied gravely.

***

They made their way to a wide, circular pit at the end of the purple-striped corridor. A cube made up of vidscreens sat in the middle of the pit, with handholds spaced around the padded black walls of what Taa assumed to be a lounge. The room was filled with pilots and mechanics of various squadrons, as well as some off-duty Inrii crewmembers. The only empty space was at the very top of the room, where Taa and Kee were able to look down at a news broadcast coming from Lingaar.

The news anchor reported tonelessly, “Following stalled trade negotiations and the bombing of the Tehuzaar Temple of Transference, the Tehuzaar Council of Governors voted unanimously to begin deporting Lingaar religious leaders and to create an embargo on all goods to and from Lingaar.”

The view switched to the pudgy red face of new Tehuzaar Chief Minister Vaa Nolii. “This is the first important step in getting justice for all those killed by the cowardly attack on our holy temple. We will not rest until the Lingaar deliver us those who were responsible for the bombing.”

The tired-looking face of the Lingaar Dominion’s president appeared in place of the Chief Minister now. “We will not admit wrongdoing in this matter, but we will continue to investigate the matter and negotiate with the Tehuzaar for a peaceful resolution.”

The anchor’s deadpan voice returned over a stock image of Tehuzaar troops drilling. “In a related story, Tehuzaar militia has begun maneuvers in the Yinlaa Desert. The Tehuzaar government refused comment about the maneuvers, but an unnamed source said the exercises were planned before the bombing. We will report further details as they become available.”

Taa felt her pulse racing, her entire body feeling faint. Whether or not the military maneuvers had been planned in advance, the significance was clear: the Tehuzaar were preparing for war. By the time the Inrii task force reached the planet, it might already be too late to simply wave the flag and return everything to normal. She squeezed Kee’s hand, grateful for the feel of his body next to hers.

“I can’t believe it,” she finally rasped. “There’s no proof that Lingaar bombed the temple, how can they jump to such a conclusion?”

“I don’t know,” Kee replied. “All I do know is it won’t end here.”

Taa squeezed his hand again, knowing he was right. There were bound to be more rallies, more protests, more cries for action on both planets. She knew neither government would want to back down, to lose face. The embargo and deportations would only be the first step in a political showdown which, unless a diplomatic solution was found, could force Taa to fight a war against her own people.

Chapter Three

The line of freighters and personal craft stretched as far as the eye could see, all the way back to the spaceports in orbit of Tehuzaar. It was a solid wave of misery bound for Lingaar, or to some of the mining outposts in the system; anywhere the people aboard the ships could find work and a roof over their head. From the cockpit of his Spidlaa, Kee could not help but shake his head at the latest escalation of the madness.

In the three months since the Inrii left Lingaar, the bomber of the Temple of Transcendence had yet to be identified. The Tehuzaar government insisted the Lingaar were at fault, bombing the temple in an attempt to destabilize Tehuzaa. The Lingaar in turn accused the Tehuzaar of violating the established trade agreements by raising tariffs and bombing the temple themselves to obtain reparations from the Lingaar. The tensions were mounting on both planets, with more and more people on each side calling for war.

The tension was not contained on the planets, though. Fights between Lingaar and Tehuzaar were almost a daily occurrence on the Inrii now. Even Taa’s roommate was becoming more outspoken in denouncing the Tehuzaar religion. Kee looked over across the black depths of space to see Taa calmly guiding her fighter, making him think of the threatening notes he was starting to receive. The notes, all typed on naval stationery and unsigned, demanded Kee stop seeing “the Tehuzaar whore” before she met with an accident.

It was obvious even to a mere pilot like himself people were choosing sides now. The Unified Defense Command was no longer unified, although neither the Tehuzaar nor Lingaar government had officially called for its dissolution. It made Kee nervous to think of what would happen should such a break-up occur. Each soldier, each pilot, each ship would have to choose a side. He looked over at Taa once again and couldn’t help but wonder which side she would choose.

“Attention all units,” Squadron Commander Rinwaa’s voice cut into Kee’s thoughts. “Militia vessels approaching. I want all flights to form up for combat, but do not engage unless fired upon. I repeat, do not engage unless you come under fire.”

Kee could see the militia ships coming into view now. A pair of spade-shaped Torgaa-class frigates led the way, followed by a saucer-shaped Monloo-class heavy cruiser and the massive cigar-shaped form of a Jolaa-class dreadnaught. Thinking back to his training, he knew the ships carried seven squadrons of fighters all together, while only the 19th Squadron was deployed to fly cover for the Inrii. If things turned ugly, Kee and his squadronmates could expect to be outnumbered very quickly.

“Attention Unified Defense Command task force, this is Fleet Commander Hii Wertaa of the Tehuzaar Republic Militia. You are not cleared to enter Tehuzaar space. Turn back immediately, or you will be treated as hostile targets.”

Kee could not believe what he was hearing, an actual threat against Unified forces. He looked down at his instrument panels, going over the status of his weapons. He had a dozen Bavroo light attack missiles and three hundred rounds of armor-piercing pellets, not much to use against a dreadnaught. He could feel his palms starting to sweat, he turned to look over at Taa, but she was looking straight ahead through her canopy. He yearned to reach out across space and gather her up in his arms, not for her sake, but for his own.

There was no doubt in Kee’s mind his fiancée was in complete control of her emotions at the moment. She was more of a soldier than he could ever hope for, a cold-eyed warrior with ice in her veins while he was on the verge of wetting himself in terror. He could see it in the way her body remained in perfect control, without shifting, slouching, or jerking like he was doing.

“Twelve, you’re out of position,” Bii warned.

“Sorry,” Kee replied, feeling like an idiot. He lifted his visor, wiping away the gathered sweat with the back of his glove.

The Tehuzaar flotilla continued to approach, growing larger and larger before him. Kee could see the gun barrels protruding from the ships, noting they were all aimed towards the Unified task force. Fleet Commander Hii Wertaa’s voice was harsher this time around, “Unified Defense Command ships, you are ordered to leave this restricted zone at once. This is your final warning.”

There was silence on the open frequencies, but Kee knew Squadron Commander Rinwaa was talking over the situation with his superiors. If the task force continued, it would risk starting a war, but if it retreated, the Tehuzaar government would claim victory and become even more belligerent. Caught up in the middle were the twelve little Spidlaa fighters of the 19th Squadron, insignificant compared to the huge warships on either side. But we’re the ones who will die first, Kee thought to himself.

Kee thought he saw a flash from the corner of his eye. He turned to see a tiny puff of flame, some debris scattering, and then one of the Spidlaas was gone. “Four’s been hit! Four’s been hit!” Someone cried out over the open channel.

“Did anyone see the shooter?” Rinwaa demanded, but by then Kee could see missiles flying from the other Spidlaas, the projectiles streaking towards the Tehuzaar ships. “Hold your fire!”

The missiles impacted against the hulls of the Tehuzaar vessels, but Kee knew they would do little damage. A warning tone sounded in his helmet, dozens of missiles streaming from the Tehuzaar flotilla. Rinwaa’s voice came over the squadron channel, “Break formation and retreat towards the Inrii. All flights stay together, and remember your training.”

“Eleven, Twelve, just follow my lead,” Bii called out, his fighter banking hard left. Kee followed, trying to ignore the insistent warning tone in his helmet indicating missiles were locked on. He concentrated on following the intricate pattern Bii’s fighter was weaving through space to fool the incoming missiles. “Twelve, drop a countermeasure.”

Kee triggered a stud just above his thumb on the control stick. A pear-shaped object shot from the rear of his Spidlaa, back through the space his fighter had just occupied. Most missiles were programmed to search and destroy a particular heat signature, corresponding to the size and engine output of a fighter or ship, but the countermeasure would produce a heat signature mimicking that of a Spidlaa. The missile, not smart enough to know the difference between real and fake aircraft, would destroy the countermeasure instead of Kee’s fighter, or at least that was how it was supposed to work.

He didn’t bother to see if any missiles took the bait, he was too busy chasing Bii’s Spidlaa. The Inrii was becoming larger in his canopy, close enough to where he could see fighters being shot from the deck. Behind those, using their verts to get aloft, was a squadron of wedge-shaped Quhii attack planes. It didn’t take much imagination to know what was happening.

“All right, Nineteenth, we’re going to cover the bombers while they get within firing range. Form up over the Inrii,” Rinwaa commanded. Kee traced Bii’s lazy circle to wind up hovering over the Quhiis lifting off from the carrier. He looked over at Taa, and to his surprise she was looking back at him. Her visor was up revealing a pained expression on her face. Their eyes met, and he could sense right away something was wrong. She turned away, lowering her visor to cover her face once more.

Kee turned his attention back to more pressing matters. He could see missiles still coming from the Tehuzaar ships, but the Unified task force’s defenses were knocking them down easily. The entire squadron was assembled and all the Quhiis in attack formation. The 19th Squadron started forward, spread out to form a screen in front of the attack planes. No fighters had been launched from the Tehuzaar ships yet, which meant Kee’s squadron would be used as a shield to keep missiles from hitting the Quhiis.

Fighters from other squadrons being launched were staying close to the Inrii, serving as reserves in case the Tehuzaar launched their own aircraft. Kee tightened his grip on his control stick, feeling helpless and conspicuous in his cockpit. A flash of light caught his attention as missiles from the task force streaked towards the Tehuzaar flotilla. His wandering gaze saw the bow of one task force cruiser swinging towards the Inrii.

Before he could shout a warning, the cruiser opened fire at point-blank range. Anti-ship missiles, electromagnetic shells, and explosive shells pounded the carrier with savage fury. Explosions wracked the port side of the Inrii, the big ship shuddering from the impacts. “All units, focus fire on the Cantee. Bring it down, now!” A voice Kee didn’t recognize shouted.

The Quhiis wheeled about, the anti-ship missiles destined for the Tehuzaar fleet were fired at the rogue cruiser instead. Kee added his own missiles to the fray, feeling anger at the betrayal welling up inside him. How could they attack another Unified ship? The Cantee paid for its treachery, the barrage from the attack planes, fighters, and other task force ships pounding it until the ship was crippled.

One of the Quhiis exploded, Kee looked about to see if more missiles were coming from the Tehuzaar ships, but then he saw a Spidlaa swoop down on another of the attack planes, blasting it to pieces with a burst of armor-piercing pellets. The fighter flew over the disabled Cantee, and then turned sharply, driving straight towards the Tehuzaar flotilla. Feeling a sense of dread, Kee looked over at his right wing, but Taa was nowhere to be seen.

“Taa, no!” Kee screamed over the open channel, but there was no reply. He watched her fighter’s tiny silhouette fade from view, disappearing into the midst of the Tehuzaar ships. The militia vessels were no longer firing or moving, but simply staying in place. It was almost as if they were daring the Unified task force, bloodied by its own forces, to continue the fight.

“All units, return to base. Return to base,” Rinwaa ordered. Kee could detect the weariness in the squadron commander’s voice, a weariness he felt in his heart.

***

Another fourteen aircraft never returned to the Inrii. A frigate of the task force was also seen heading for Tehuzaar, presumably to defect. Every hour more of the task force’s crew would wind up missing, including one of the mechanics for Kee’s flight, Caa Yinloo. The defectors were seen sneaking off in escape pods or aircraft while the damaged carrier started the long trek back to Lingaa for repairs. Not counting the Cantee’s crew, the number of dead, wounded, or defected neared one thousand while the Tehuzaar took no damage at all. The battle was a complete rout for the Tehuzaar, the first victory of the war belonging to them.

Kee went through the motions of putting away his gear, all the while thinking of the last time he saw Taa. She wanted one last look, he thought while he showered. She wanted to see me one last time before she went away. He pounded the wall of the shower pod in anger. How could she? How could she leave me behind?

He changed his clothes, following Bii to the ready room for debriefing. A total of five fighters had been lost, two to enemy fire and three more to defections. Reports on the battle were being sent to Unified Defense Command headquarters on Lingaa to be analyzed. New orders would be coming in a few days, until then the squadron would be on high alert. Combat air patrols would be stepped up to protect the damaged Inrii from any follow-up attacks. Since there were no replacements for the lost pilots, the 19th would consist of two flights. Squadron Commander Rinwaa would lead a flight of four, while his second-in-command, Bii, and Kee formed the other flight.

Kee listened to all the details, but he did not care. The most important person in the universe to him was lost, and he had no idea when he would see her again, or if he would see her again. In an instant, the love of his life had left him behind without even saying good-bye. The pain gnawed at him throughout the debriefing, but only when he was alone in his quarters did he let the tears come.

Epilogue

Kee managed to persuade the Inrii’s security personnel to allow him to clean out Taa’s quarters. As though she sensed something was wrong, Taa’s former roommate allowed Kee to be alone while he stuffed his fiancée’s clothes into a bag. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking down into tears while he packed. Each article of clothing he touched reminded him of her soft skin rubbing against him, and in turn reminded him of what he had lost.

Once the clothes were all packed, he sorted through her personal effects. He stuffed a picture of Taa with her family into one of his pockets, cherishing her warm smile in the photograph. When he reached the vorlee case, he opened it and saw a piece of paper slip out to hover before his face. Snatching the paper from the air, he unfolded it and felt his heart pound. It was a letter addressed to him, written just before the battle.

My Dearest Kee:

If you’ve found this letter, then I am either dead, or have returned to Tehuzaar to stand with my people in their hour of need. Either way, it means that we will be apart for a long time, but rest assured we will see each other again, either now or in the afterlife. I know you do not believe in the Tehuu or his teachings, but there can be no paradise for me without you, so surely we will meet again after death has taken us both.

I wanted to tell you so many things, but I could never find the courage. In the end, I must hope this letter reaches you, so you can know what I could never find the right words to say until now. Let me begin by saying that I love you more than anyone in this universe. I never wanted to do anything to hurt you, but I have a duty to my people.

It is hard for someone from Lingaa to understand the pride of the Tehuzaar people. My ancestors made a dangerous voyage so all Tehuzaar could be free of persecution. They built a civilization with their own blood and sweat. They created a haven in a barren wasteland. We, their descendants, must honor their sacrifice by preserving their work. Even thought I believe in unification, I must defend my family, my home.

I hope you can understand in time it was not an easy decision for me to make. Before I met you, there would have been no hesitation at all, but loving a Lingaar makes me uneasy about fighting a war against them. I do not want to fight you or your people, but I must. I must in order to protect my family, their way of life, so future generations of Tehuzaar can live free of Lingaar domination. Perhaps someday there will be peace, perhaps unification will become reality, but not yet.

I do not know what will happen, but you should know I will always love you. Even thought our people may be at war, my soul will always belong to you. No matter how horrible the war, it can never make me stop treasuring those precious moments we spent together.

Forever Yours,

Taa

Destiny's End: Book 3

2007-06-13T10:06:00.001-07:00

Book Three:

Dark Sacrifices

Chapter One

"The time is at hand. The hordes of evil threaten to overrun all the universe. You, the last Yta ordained by the Matrix of Wisdom, must rise and take your place in history. For, once the appointed sacrifices are made, the evil that threatens all will be banished from the universe once and for all time," a distant voice said to Valkyrie as she stood dormant in the restoration chamber. The words seemed strange to her, but the voice was vaguely familiar. Where had she heard it before? There was suddenly a bright light as the door to the restoration chamber opened. Valkyrie checked her systems and looked about her in confusion. Her repairs were only 83% complete, why had the restoration chamber opened?

She checked the nearest station and saw that there had recently been a breach in the ship's hull. The restoration chamber must have opened automatically when the alert sounded, she thought. She scanned the ship for sparks and detected only Perceptor's spark near the breach. His status was determined to be wounded and unconscious. No one else was on board. Could they have all been killed? She wondered. If so, then who was the ship?

There will be time later for questions, she thought. She realized that she had no weapon, so her first stop would have to be the armory so that she could get something to fight with. Valkyrie left the bridge quickly and hurried down to the armory. She entered her password and the door opened. To her amazement, the room was nearly empty. Most of what remained were physical implements like swords. She rummaged through the armory and was only able to find one gun: a small laser pistol of the type Beachcomber used. The pistol barely fit her hand, but she knew that she could not be picky. She took stock of the other weapons and grabbed one of the swords. She tested it in her hand and found that it was easy enough in her hand. She attached the sword to her side and kept the pistol in her hand. Then she made her way towards the breach.

She stopped where Perceptor had fallen and checked him over. He had taken two shots to the chest and was in bad condition. Looking about her cautiously, Valkyrie slung Perceptor over her shoulder and trotted back towards the restoration chamber. She dumped Perceptor inside after stripping him of his rifle and leaving him with the pistol, so that if he should wake up or find himself facing his attacker, he would be at least able to put up some resistance. The door to the restoration chamber hissed shut and Valkyrie headed back to the site of the breach.

Emergency systems had already sealed the hole in the hull and Valkyrie could not ascertain any cause for the damage. She carefully looked around and then headed down the corridor. Perhaps whatever had attacked Perceptor was hiding somewhere on the ship, seeking another victim. She cautiously moved forward and kept going until she reached the end of the corridor. Here there was a door that led to the engine room and the storage room for the Matrices. Valkyrie kept her rifle at ready and flattened herself against the left side of the doorway as she slapped the button to open the door. She took a deep breath and looked around the doorway. With relief she saw that there was nothing.

She made her way along the corridor and heard the door hiss shut behind her. As she neared the room that housed the Matrices, she heard a noise. It was a low growl like that of an animal. Valkyrie froze in her tracks and looked around the darkened corridor. Suddenly she saw two points of red light in the darkness. "Who goes there?" She demanded.

"It is about time you arrived, I have been waiting. I could smell the stink of your tainted spark since I came aboard. You are descended from the race spawned by Cybertrax, yes?"

"I am," Valkyrie replied. "Before I became an Autobot, I was known as Hippolyta, a Cybertraxian leader. Now, who are you?"

"I am, in a different way, also the spawn of Cybertrax. Do you know who I am now?"

"Unicron?" Valkyrie asked incredulously.

"Very good. I have come to take what is rightfully mine, the Matrices."

"I won't let you have them," Valkyrie replied defiantly.

"Oh, I am already in possession of all but one of the Matrices on board this ship. Where is the Matrix of Harmony?"

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you!"

"Surely you must have some guess of where it may be?"

"I won't tell you anything!"

"Tell me and I will spare your life and those of your people."

"I could not betray myself or the others, even if it would spare their lives."

"I do not refer to your Autobot friends, but rather the Cybertraxians. For, as soon as I have harnessed the power of all of the Matrices, the Cybertraxians will be the first to feel my wrath. I will eradicate them all and forever eliminate their scourge from the universe."

"No!" Valkyrie cried out and fired a burst from her rifle. The light from the shot showed her the hideous creature that stood before Valkyrie. Her shot went wide of it, and Unicron's laughter filled the corridor.

"Let me make this more sporting for you," he chuckled and the lights in the corridor turned on. Valkyrie could now see Unicron in full and gasped. His height filled the corridor as he straightened and she could see him stare down at her in amusement. "You cannot possibly hope to defeat me."

"No, but I must try," Valkyrie responded. She fired off several more shots from her rifle, but they had no effect. She put the rifle away and grabbed the sword with both hands. She sprang forward and slashed the blade at Unicron's right arm, but it bounced off of the hand without even leaving a mark. Valkyrie staggered backwards, but Unicron's left arm swung and his claws drove into her midsection.

Valkyrie screamed and Unicron pulled out his claws. Valkyrie collapsed to her knees, but felt no pain. Instead, she felt more of a tingling sensation throughout her body. Her entire form began to glow with a purple light. She held her hands up to her face and to her horror saw the surface of her hand vaporize. What remained was a flesh-covered hand. She gasped in shock and could see that the same was happening to the rest of her body. There was a sudden feeling of intense pain and Valkyrie blacked out.

When she woke up, she saw that darkness obscured the edges of her vision. She brought a hand to her eyes and realized that there was nothing wrong with her, strands of hair had fallen into her eyes. Valkyrie leapt to her feet and found herself encircled by mirrors. In them she saw a young humanoid woman that could be no more than twenty-five years old. Her hand touched the hair she had felt earlier and she could see that waves of black hair swept back over her head to the base of her skull, across her ears, and along her forehead. Below this were eyes with irises of an almost clear blue, thin cheeks that were coated with small brown freckles, a small upturned nose, and wide red lips. Valkyrie's hand touched each point in disbelief. She held up her small hands and flexed each finger experimentally. She saw that her body was clothed in a short, light green jacket, dark green shirt that pressed tightly to her small breasts, black pants, and black boots. It was completely unbelievable. How could this have happened? She wondered.

Unicron's voice echoed around her, although she could not see him. "What has happened to you is a sample of the pain and terror that will visit your people. When you Cybertraxians die, your sparks become one with the Matrix of Wisdom and you are reunited with all of the others who have already died. When my wrath is visited upon the home of your people, I shall make the entire populace weak fleshling creatures. I will exterminate all of them like the foul vermin they are, and without sparks they will forever be cut off from their loved ones. As will you." Unicron laughed and Valkyrie looked around to try and see him. The mirrors rose high over her and she could not see over them. "Give me information to find the Matrix of Harmony and this fate can be avoided for you and your people."

"Never!" Valkyrie shouted and noted how high-pitched and puny her voice sounded. The mirrors disappeared and she saw Unicron staring down at her. He seemed larger than ever and she realized quickly that it was because she was much shorter than she had been. She had been as tall as Grapple or Wheeljack, but in this humanoid body she was a head or two shorter than Beachcomber. She looked around for her weapons and darted for the sword, which was closest to her. She tried to lift it, but could only get the handle as high as her knees.

Unicron swat the sword from her hands and laughed, "Perhaps now you will see reason. You cannot hope to win against me. I have already slain your comrade Scarecrow and destroyed the mind of that young girl you captured. Killing a pathetic, feeble creature like you will be no challenge, especially since I have added the powers of the other Matrices to my own."

Valkyrie looked around her, but knew that there was no weapon she could use, and even if there was, it would have no effect on Unicron. Staring up at him, fear chilled her heart and in a panic she turned and ran. She quickly opened the door and fled down the corridor as fast as her short legs would carry her. She stopped when she reached the bridge and threw herself into the chair of the helm station.

There was no weapon she could use, and even if there was, it would have no effect on Unicron. She was sweating and breathing hard. wishing that Unicron had granted her a humanoid form that was in better shape. Her muscles were weak and flabby, and between her shirt and pants there was a small bulge of fat. There was nothing she could do to stop him, not in this condition.

She stopped and chastened herself for her cowardice. It didn't matter what form she possessed, it was her soul that mattered. Whether she was composed of Cybertronian alloys or flesh and blood, it did not matter. She stood with resolve and knew that there was one thing that she could do to stop Unicron. She looked over the helm station and activated a hidden panel that would allow her to jettison the forward quarter of the ship, a feature all Autobot shuttles possessed. She looked towards the restoration chamber and hoped that Perceptor would be all right. With any luck the forward part of the ship would remain in safe orbit until he emerged.

Valkyrie punched the appropriate buttons and then dashed off of the bridge. She managed to just get by the emergency doors that would seal off the forward section of the ship. The Odyssey shook violently as the front quarter was rocketed apart from the remainder. When it was finished, Valkyrie took a deep breath and prepared to go back to where Unicron waited. She caught her reflection in a piece of glass and studied her face again. By humanoid standards it was not ugly, that at least she could be thankful for. She tucked loose strands of hair into place and straightened her back, trying to summon the courage to go back. Undoubtedly Unicron would be waiting for her. He would mock her for her cowardice and laugh at her pathetic attempts to fight back. That would be his downfall. She marched proudly down the corridor and prepared to meet her destiny.

Unicron was waiting for her in the same spot, as if he had known that she would return. "Did you forget something?" Unicron asked mockingly.

"The only thing I've forgotten is to banish you back to the realm of the underworld where you belong!" Valkyrie shot back as she hefted the sword off of the deck without any trouble, raw emotion powering her flagging muscles.

Valkyrie struck a defensive pose and stared Unicron in his burning red eyes. "Your plan for my people will fail. My people destroyed your father and took possession of the Matrices that had been hidden for so long. When you arrive they will fight you to the last, no matter what weak forms you give them. They will all die before even one should bend their knee to you in submission." She took a firmer grip on the sword and then continued. "What you have forgotten is that the soul is not contained within the spark nor the flesh. It is something that is unseen, the essence of life itself that flows through any living creature. When the host body dies, the soul is released back to the universe that gave it life. Even with the power of the Matrices, you cannot deny this from my people. In any form their souls will be released and will gather with those of the ones they love beyond the Matrices."

"It is said that the souls of my people become one with the Matrix of Wisdom. The Cybertronians have a similar belief. What you do not understand is that the souls of my people are not contained in a physical vessel. They dwell in a place beyond the Matrix, a place far above this plane of existence, to be called upon not merely by the bearer of the Matrix of Wisdom. This collective wisdom can be called upon by any being at any time for courage, love, knowledge, or inspiration. I call it forth now in order to gain the strength to defeat you and rid this universe of you for all time."

Before any reply could be made, Valkyrie sprung forward and swung the sword horizontally into Unicron's left thigh. The sword did not make a mark, but Unicron stepped backwards in surprise at the sudden assault. Valkyrie continued to swing the sword wildly and Unicron kept up his retreat, as though he was in shock from her verbal and physical attacks. Valkyrie could see that she was causing no damage, but that was not her intent.

Finally Unicron seemed to shake himself from his funk and lashed at Valkyrie with his right hand. His claws dug into the left side of her face, tearing open her cheek. Valkyrie did not even scream, she merely pressed her attack. Unicron's left hand slashed Valkyrie's midsection and blood began to spread across her shirt. Again, she did not make a sound, but focused on what needed to be done. Her hold on the sword was growing weaker as the blood continued to ooze from the wound to the midsection

The Matrix shrine was in sight, and she could see that the doors had not been pried off or damaged in any way, meaning that Unicron had somehow broken the codes. She continued her frenzied assault, driving Unicron back even further. At last her destination was close at hand. A clawed foot smashed into her left leg, shattering it. Valkyrie pitched forward, but dropped her sword and used it as a crutch to support herself. She had several feet to go, but there was no way that she could continue forward. Unicron straightened once more and laughed as Valkyrie tried to push herself onward, but could not. She staggered and then fell backwards to the deck.

"I should have expected such a feeble attack from such a feeble hero like yourself. For all of your metaphysical talk, there is none who can save you now."

Valkyrie rose to her feet, throwing the sword aside. She charged forward, but Unicron was not caught by surprise this time. He reached out quickly with his right hand, hefting Valkyrie into the air. She squirmed to try and free herself, but couldn’t. Her short legs were several feet off of the deck and she felt like a child being picked on by a bully. Unicron laughed viciously and his skull-like face contorted into a ghastly smile. “You took me by surprise, little one, I did not think you would have the fight left in you to attack me in such a manner. However, your window of opportunity has closed.” He flicked back a few stray strands of her hair with a claw and said quietly, “It would be a waste, though, to destroy such a pretty young face. Perhaps if you tell me what you know of the Matrices I will spare you and allow you to start your life over again on a humanoid world. You could be safe among your own kind, peacefully living out your days.”

Valkyrie spit in his face and shot back, “I won’t tell you anything, nor will I allow myself to live at the cost of my friends and billions of innocent beings.”

“Your death will be meaningless. You are in no position to defeat me. You are weak and with a single thought I could make you much, much weaker. Your surrender would at least allow you to keep your life.”

“I don’t care about my life. All that matters is defeating you.”

“You will not have the chance. You have foolishly thrown your life away twice, I would have thought you would have learned after the first time.” With that, Unicron swung Valkyrie around and slashed open her right cheek with one claw. Valkyrie thrashed around in pain, but she could not break Unicron’s grip. She tried to force down the pain, but could not, and her scream throughout the Odyssey’s corridors. “You poor little girl, you could have been free. I gave you a chance for a new life, and you threw it away. Now you will die like a pathetic, weak fleshling.” Valkyrie’s face was a mask of anguish, both of her cheeks cut open and pouring out blood. He watched the red liquid pool on the deck below her feet and saw her stop struggling as she was on the verge of passing out. Unicron threw her dismissively to the deck, where she lay in a heap for some time.

He considered regenerating her body so that he could watch her struggle more. He found it very entertaining to watch her foolishly keep going, trying to destroy what she could not even scratch. She is much more amusing than the girl on Pholon, he thought. That girl had been too easy to destroy, she had coerced herself to believe a pack of lies too quickly. The thrill is in the hunt, the struggle between the hunter and his inferior prey, he thought. On Pholon, that cowardly girl had given up when penned in, while this young woman had her back to the wall and fought back. She kept fighting even though her cause was hopeless. Now, though, it appeared that she was finished. As much as he wanted to bring her back for another chance, he knew that he had more important things to take care of. It is a pity to lose such a good entertainer. Still, there will be time for amusement later.

Valkyrie lay on the cold deck for what seemed like hours. She wanted to get up, she wanted to continue the fight, but she couldn’t find the strength to rise. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak, she thought of the old Earth saying she had heard one of the others use, and found that it aptly described the situation. Unicron stood over her, watching her, waiting for her to die before he went to the surface to continue with his mission. He could have easily finished her off, but he wanted to watch her suffer, to writhe in pain at his feet.

Valkyrie could feel the blood soaking her clothes and her vision started to dim. I’m dying, she thought. I’m dying and I’ve failed everyone on the surface, everyone who’s counted on me. She bitterly thought back to when she had stood before Cybertrax the first time with the Matrix of Wisdom. The Matrix had refused to open and only Jetfire’s intervention had kept her from being obliterated. This time, though, Jetfire would not come to save her. She would die here on the deck of the ship she had come to know as home in a body that was unfamiliar to her with none of her friends around her.

“The strength of soul is the only thing that can overcome the darkness. Let your spirit guide your actions, let its strength fill your body and power it onward,” the voice she had heard in the restoration chamber told her from afar. It was only now, as she neared death, that she knew whose voice it was. It was the voice of the Cybertraxian Elders whose sparks lay beyond the Matrix. When she had died before, she had gone before them and pleaded that they allow her to live so that she could remain with Skyfire. It was this voice that she heard once again as she was on the threshhold of death. She closed her eyes tightly and forced all thoughts of pain from her mind. Her wounds didn’t matter, all that mattered was that she get the job done.

Unicron watched as slowly Valkyrie got to her feet, and when he looked into her eyes he could see beyond the Matrix. He could see the Cybertraxian Elders and hear their voices tormenting him, but more importantly he could once again smell the tainted essence of their sparks, sparks that were descended from Cybertrax, the father who had betrayed him. Unicron was frozen in place, oblivious to Valkyrie as he felt his old rage building once again. Cybertrax had betrayed him, setting Primus above him and forcing him to do menial labor while Primus was given the power of a Matrix. Cybertrax and Primus had both betrayed Unicron, and although they were both dead, their descendants continued to thwart him.

Valkyrie could see the distant look on Unicron’s face and could feel that he was somewhere else, remembering an old wound. She took the initiative and stumbled towards the door of the Matrix shrine. As she was nearly there, Unicron howled with rage like a bloodthirsty animal. He turned and shouted, “Where do you think you are going?” Valkyrie was about to reach for the door controls when she felt claws spike deep into her back. Unicron had sunk both hands into her, severing her spine in two places and doing serious damage to her internal organs. “You will not succeed, Cybertraxian scum. I will suffer the spawn of Cybertrax and Primus, who plotted to rob me of what was mine so long ago. Now is the time that I end this game and take what is mine!”

“No!” Valkyrie shouted and tore free from Unicron’s claws. Her legs buckled, but her arms reached out and she managed to slam her hand down on the keypad for the door controls. With her last ounce of strength, she pressed the enter key and there was the shrill sound of an alarm, followed by a clicking sound. Valkyrie collapsed on her back and looked up in triumph at Unicron before her last breath escaped her and her head rolled to the side. Unicron turned and suddenly the entire shrine burst into flames as the charges Wheeljack had placed fired. The powerful explosives tore through the entire ship and were fueled as the engine reactors were hit and exploded. The explosions ripped through the length of the remainder of the Odyssey and in moments all that remained were shards of wreckage.

Chapter Two

An enormous fireball lit up the sky and Skyfire looked up in shock. "What in the name of Primus was that?" He and the others were finishing the erection of their camp and working on a way to lure the enemy to their position.

"I'm not sure," Wheeljack replied. "Maybe the Odyssey encountered some enemy ships and destroyed them."

"I hope so."

"The shield system and all of the fortifications are ready," Skids reported.

"Good. Now we just have to draw the enemy here."

"That shouldn't be too hard. If the first one was intelligent, then it's probably safe to assume that these ones are as well. In which case, they aren't going to just let us rain ordinance down on them," Grapple observed.

"The problem is the radiation where they're gathering. If we launch an attack to draw them, there's a chance that the radiation could cause permanent damage," Skids added.

"It appears that we will not have to do anything," a new voice said. Shockwave emerged from the Legacy II and continued, "Sensors indicate the enemy is moving towards us. I am also detecting an aircraft of some unknown type approaching. It does not match Valkyrie's energy signature."

"Let's hope that it's on our side," Skyfire replied. "All right, then, let's get to our stations and prepare for battle. I'm not going to make a long speech. I just want you all to know that it's been an honor to serve with all of you and there is no one I would rather share my final moments with, just in case I should fall. Just remember to keep firing and don't stop until the last of the enemy is lying dead on the field." Skyfire shook each Autobot's hand and finally reached Shockwave. He stared into the Decepticon's one eye and smiled as he grasped Shockwave's hand. "You have been a great help to all of us, Shockwave. When our sparks become one with the Matrix, I hope to see you again and at last we will be able to be the comrades that we never could be in life."

Shockwave was silent and moved towards his station. The Transformers had used items from the transports, rocks, and dirt to form several barricades from which to fight behind. Beachcomber sat in the Legacy II and Grapple in the Pathfinder, the two transports angled so as to aim their weapons at where an enemy would be forced to attack from. The force field stretched along the ridgeline, so that the enemy would first have to breach it before they could overrun the encampment. It was, Skyfire knew, the perfect place from which to make a last stand.

There was something coming from over the horizon and Skyfire could see that it was the aircraft Shockwave had mentioned. The fighter was black and silver with swept-forward wings, twin engines, and a single tailfin. What is that? Skyfire wondered and motioned for everyone to remain alert.

The fighter did not attack, but instead landed just below the ridge. To everyone's surprise, the fighter transformed into a large robot. The intruder raised its arms to signal that it had no hostile intentions and stepped towards the force field. "Who are you?" Skyfire demanded.

"It is I, Scarecrow."

"You don't look like Scarecrow."

"I have undergone…modifications."

"He's right Skyfire, I remember him looking like this just before he knocked me out," Beachcomber chipped in.

"All right, we'll lower the force field." The shield was deactivated and Scarecrow stepped into the camp. Skyfire could see immediately that the Predacon warrior was badly damaged. Parts of his head, chest, and left leg were exposed and his right eye was shattered. Despite that, Skyfire could see that Scarecrow’s eyes were glowing bright red, indicating that he was not dying by any means. Skyfire scanned his comrade and could tell that the Predacon was operating on reserve power routed through his remaining circuits. "What happened to you?"

"I need to talk to you…privately. It is most urgent."

"Maybe we should let Wheeljack look at you first."

"No, this cannot wait." Skyfire stood and motioned for Scarecrow to follow him. They stepped into the Legacy II and Beachcomber quickly exited. Skyfire secured the hatches and went to the back of the transport so that they would not be seen. The Maximal and Predacon took seats opposite to each other and Scarecrow began his message without fanfare. "The Odyssey has been destroyed. When I arrived here, I saw pieces of its wreckage floating through space."

"What? That's impossible!" Skyfire burst out. "What about Valkyrie and Perceptor?"

"I did not see them, but my sensors are inoperable, so it is possible that they escaped."

"How could this have happened?"

"The Odyssey was destroyed by the dark force that has arisen from the Dark Matrix. After I left the ship with the girl, I traveled to her home planet of Pholon. Once there, Tai Lecau abducted the girl and left valuable information with her about the secrets of the Matrix, secrets she passed on to me. However, Tai Lecau is not behind this. When he took the dark powers of the Matrix of Life upon himself, it was a beacon for which evil could gather. Evil has now possessed his body, transforming it into a hideous servant of darkness, a demon from the underworld. Its mind, its spirit is that of…Unicron, and its mission is to take the power of all Matrices and corrupt them in a similar fashion. Once all of the Matrices are corrupted, Unicron will have the power to rule the universe unquestioned forever."

Skyfire stared at Scarecrow in disbelief. "Unicron? Unicron is dead! The Autobot Matrix destroyed him centuries ago!"

"As I said, the Dark Matrix has summoned his spirit back, but there is much more to this tale." Scarecrow sighed and then continued. "The alien horde we face is not here to begin an invasion. Their only goal is to destroy all of us so that Unicron can take the Matrices.”

“So Unicron is in charge of these things?”

“Unicron created the aliens millions of years ago to scour the universe for the Matrices. He was able to tap into the teleporter network that Cybertrax had constructed to bring the races who possessed the Matrices together one day. He sent swarms of aliens to scour planets in search of the Matrices, to find them and bring them back. Of course, he did not want his army to turn on him when they succeeded, so he gave them no intelligence, save for savage killing instincts. A group of mechanical spiders was created to preside over these, to keep them focused. The spiders were programmed only to find the Matrices and bring them back, they did not have the capacity to learn or change their orders. Meanwhile, Unicron continued to gather power and search for Primus to destroy him. When Unicron was destroyed, the alien horde was left to its own devices. Some continued with their mission, while some of the groups began randomly invading worlds and conquering them. Some of the spiders had somehow been reprogrammed, or groups of the aliens were commandeered by more intelligent beings. Tai Lecau discovered this army when he took the power of the Matrix of Life and knew that he could use the girl to get us here so that he could destroy us and take the Matrices.” Scarecrow stopped and looked away sadly. “She had no idea that she was being used, he twisted her mind so that she thought that everything happened like she said, like I told you. The ships we ran into were a mirage to goad us into beliveing her story, as was the brutal manner the crew of the Pholonian ship was killed. He wanted to convince us that he was evil and out to conquer the universe so that we would race here into his trap.”

“Tai used the Dark Matrix to transport all of the alien horde to one location and once you arrived, they would begin to teleport here and destroy you. Unicron, when he took over Tai's form, continued this plan. I tried to stop him on Pholon, but he easily defeated me. He also destroyed the mind of the Pholonian girl we recovered. She…she is living in some fantasy world invented by her mind where nothing that has happened to her is real. I believe that it is he who destroyed the Odyssey and may now be in possession of the other Matrices."

"However, when I neared the wreckage of the Odyssey, a strange thing happened to me. My mind was filled with images and a voice telling me all that I have said, and more. It told me what must be done in order to destroy this evil that has been loosed about the universe…"

"Enemy incoming!" Beachcomber's voice shouted. Scarecrow looked away, his face looking haunted.

“I must go,” Scarecrow said suddenly and left the transport with Skyfire right behind him.

“What? The aliens are almost here. You can’t abandon us now!” Skyfire replied.

“He is here.”

“Who?
“Unicron. He has commanded his minions to attack in order to distract us. But much more important things are at stake now. Before I go to face Unicron for the final time, there is something that you must know.”

“Scarecrow, you aren’t in any shape to take him on. Let me go instead!” Skyfire protested as the alien horde approached. He wanted to help his friends in the battle ahead, but he could not let Scarecrow go to a certain death.

“Listen to me!” Scarecrow shouted angrily and Skyfire could see that there could be no further discussion of who would face Unicron. Scarecrow continued quietly, “There is only one way to stop Unicron and the Dark Matrix. You must destroy the Matrix of Harmony, Skyfire. Once it has perished, the others bonded to it will also be destroyed.”

“Destroyed? But what about the wisdom and knowledge that the Matrices contain? I can’t destroy those!”

“There is scant time to explain, but I will tell you what Tai Lecau learned and what I have learned about the Matrices. They were never meant for mortals to possess. Cybertrax thought that he could shape the universe in his own image. To achieve his harmonious universe he focused powers from realms beyond our understanding into the Matrices. Each Matrix, as you know, was created unique so that the civilizations raised around them would be dependent upon each other. When Cybertrax created the Matrices, when he set himself up as a god and harnessed powers beyond his comprehension and unleashed them upon the universe, that was when all of this was set into motion. What is happening now was preordained from the creation of the Matrices. From billions of years ago, this day was foretold, the day when darkness would threaten to overshadow all things in the universe. On this day, great heroes would rise to the challenge and confront evil, sacrificing themselves to save all from the darkness that threatened to engulf the universe. This day of final reckoning is the day when Cybertrax’s hubris is purged from our universe, when we will have to learn to survive on our own, without the divine powers of the Matrices. It is no accident that you or I or anyone else is here today. This is our destiny.”

Skyfire was shocked and stared at Scarecrow dumbly. Ever since he had known Scarecrow, Skyfire had never once heard him utter so many words, and never so eloquently. “What’s happened to you, Scarecrow? Why all of this philosophical talk?”

“On Pholon I was given the secrets of the Matrix by Kari, the girl that you and Valkyrie found. When I arrived here, the secrets were unleashed and I felt a change come over me, as if something had possessed me. It is the spirit of the Matrices, Skyfire, pushing me forward to my destiny. I must answer the call, and so must you. Find the Matrix of Harmony and destroy it. Then the physical link between our universe and those beyond will finally be severed for all time and the evil of Unicron will be banished for all eternity.”

Skyfire stared at Scarecrow and then nodded. “I will, Scarecrow, I promise.” Before Scarecrow could transform and take off, Skyfire touched his shoulder. “Thank-you, Scarecrow, you have been the most noble Predacon I have ever known. I’ll look for you in that realm beyond the Matrix.”

Scarecrow turned and clasped Skyfire’s hand. “As will I, friend. Our destiny calls, we cannot keep it waiting any longer.” Scarecrow transformed into his jet form and took off into the air. Skyfire watched him fade over the horizon and wished Scarecrow luck. Then he turned and became Jetfire. He found Skids and searched for the right words to say.

“What’s going on, Jetfire?” Skids asked, sensing that something was wrong.

“I have to go, Skids. I don’t want to leave you and the others to fight this battle, but there is a more important battle that needs to be won, and I am the only one who can fight it.”

“You aren’t making a lot of sense, Jetfire.”

“I know. Look, Scarecrow told me what needs to be done to destroy the Dark Matrix for good. I can’t ask any of you to do it, because I don’t want to risk losing you. There’s a strong chance that I won’t make it and...I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve appreciated your friendship to me and to Valkyrie. You helped us both through some of our most trying times and I never really thanked you for it.”

“It was no...”

“I know, I know, but I wanted to say it. If I don’t return, I want you to take command and get the others home to Cybertron. I can’t think of anyone better suited for the job than you.”

“Thanks, but I’m sure it won’t be necessary.”

“Something tells me otherwise. Promise me that you’ll get them home.”

“I promise.”

Jetfire shook Skids’ hand and turned away. He transformed into his jet mode and took off into the air. He didn’t know if he would see his fellow Autobots again, but he knew that somehow they would survive and make it home.

Scarecrow landed and transformed, standing on a cracked plain of hard, dark brown rock. It was growing dark and Scarecrow knew that he would not have to wait long to find Unicron. He will come to me to try and find out what I know, Scarecrow thought. He will not succeed. Scarecrow pulled out his sword and studied the strange blade. Whatever the material was in the blade, it had failed to harm Unicron last time. And this time he will be even more powerful, Scarecrow thought. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I do what has been asked of me, that I play my role until the end. That I die as the warrior I am.

From the growing darkness, something seemed to melt out of the shadows. Unicron’s red eyes became visible and Scarecrow took the sword in both hands, striking an en garde pose. “I see that I was unsuccessful in killing you the last time,” Unicron began. “This time I will not be so careless.”

“My life means nothing to me, Unicron. I will gladly sacrifice it so that the universe will be free of your tyranny.”

“I see there can be no reasoning with you. It was the same with your Cybertraxian friend. She too refused to yield and thought that she could destroy me.” Something flew from Unicron’s hand and landed at Scarecrow’s feet. To his horror he saw that it was the head of a young humanoid female, whose clear blue eyes looked up sadly at Scarecrow. The woman’s face was unrecognizable below her nose, as blood from the gouges along her cheeks obscured everything. Scarecrow knew that it was Valkyrie. Not from her face, but from her eyes. They were filled with a sadness and wisdom that he had seen in her eyes. He had not talked to her very much, but he respected the sacrifice she had made to destroy Cybertrax. “That is all that is left of her I’m afraid. She chose to throw her life away foolishly. As do you. Once I have ripped the secrets of the Matrix from you, I will destroy the rest of your friends and find the Matrix of Harmony.”

Scarecrow lowered one arm and fired his plasma cannons, incinerating the head so that it would not rot for centuries on Cerberus. Scarecrow resumed his grip on his sword and growled, “You have desecrated the spark of a great leader and warrior. I will make you pay for that.” Scarecrow lunged forward and swung his sword into Unicron’s left wrist. The edge of the blade seemed to glow with white light as it hacked through Unicron’s exterior and cut deep into his wrist. Scarecrow quickly pulled the sword blade out and struck again, taking the left hand off. Unicron howled in pain and swiped at Scarecrow with his right hand. Scarecrow jumped back in time to avoid being hit by the claws and with a backhanded swing took off the claws on the right hand.

Unicron flew into the air and landed a few yards back. Then in his right hand appeared a black sword. The blade was curved like a scimitar and was tinged with a purple glow. Unicron’s left hand reappeared, albeit without the claws, and he charged forward. He raised the sword over his head and swung it down at Scarecrow with all of his might. Scarecrow met the blow with his blade and a mighty clash echoed over the plain and into infinity. The two blades were locked, but Unicron used all of his strength to force both swords downward. Before Scarecrow could recover, Unicron brought his scimitar back up to take Scarecrow’s head off. The Predacon leapt back, the pommel of the Unicron’s sword striking Scarecrow in the face and sending him crashing to the ground. Unicron tried to bring his blade down on Scarecrow, but Scarecrow brought his sword up and blocked the blow and swept Unicron’s legs from under him.

Both warriors quickly got to their feet and for a moment they stared at one another. They leapt at each other and again the blades clashed. For hours they fought across the plain, their swords colliding, neither warrior gaining the upper hand. Scarecrow was struck in the left leg, torso, and right arm while Unicron was slashed across both arms and his upper torso. Knowing that he had to change the momentum of the fight, Scarecrow fired a burst from his plasma cannons and charged while Unicron was distracted. He swept his sword to the left and struck Unicron in the right hand. Unicron’s blade fell to the ground, his hand partially severed. Scarecrow quickly brought his sword back and the edge of the blade sliced into Unicron’s head. One of his eyes turned dark and he screamed with rage.

Unicron stumbled backwards and Scarecrow gripped the handle of his sword with both hands. As Unicron reeled from the last attack, Scarecrow lunged forward and plunged the blade squarely into the monster’s chest. There was a flash of white light and Unicron doubled over, screaming in pain. Scarecrow stepped back and watched as Unicron’s exterior cracked open, his body collapsing into a pile of black rubble. From the rubble rose a sphere lit by purple light that formed itself into Unicron’s shape. From the body of pure energy glowed the red eyes. Unicron lifted his arms into the air and from his entire form came a wave of energy.

There was no time for Scarecrow to scream or even to move before the wave of purple energy was upon him. He felt it strike him and then instantly his body began to dematerialize. He was silent, his eyes meeting Unicron’s until he finally vaporized into nothingness.

Unicron took off into the air, his entire form glowing with rage. He could feel the Matrix of Harmony and knew that it was close. He would find it and take it, then he would have all the power of the Matrices. He had taken the secrets of the Matrices from Kari, but they would not open for him. No matter how much he tried, he could not pry them out. Now that Scarecrow was dead, he would be denied from ever knowing them, but it did not matter. He would soon have the power of the Matrices. After that there would be plenty of time for him to learn their secrets. That his physical body had been destroyed was of no concern to him. He would not need it any more. He was above the merely physical now. He was a god.

Chapter Three

Jetfire stood on the bridge of the Odyssey and opened the restoration chamber. Perceptor emerged and Jetfire’s heart sank when he saw that Valkyrie was not in there. “What happened, Perceptor?” Jetfire demanded.

“There was a breach in the hull and I went to check on it. There was a strange being there, a creature composed of a black material I could not identify. It had red eyes and large, very sharp claws. I did what I could to defend myself, but I was no match for it. I was wounded and knocked unconscious. I had seen nor heard anything until you opened the restoration chamber,” Perceptor explained.

“Where’s Valkyrie?”

“I don’t know. Last time I knew she was in the restoration chamber. She must have emerged and found me. What happened to her I do not know.”

Jetfire turned away, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. Unicron had boarded the ship and rendered Perceptor unconscious. When Valkyrie had come to she had found Perceptor, placed him in the restoration chamber, and separated the front quarter from the rest of the ship. She had then detonated the other three-quarters and had probably been killed in doing so. She’s gone, he thought gloomily. She’s gone and I wasn’t even here to help her, to defend her in her time of need. He cursed himself bitterly and turned back to his friend. “Keep the ship in orbit and wait for Skids to signal you. I have to go and I probably won’t be coming back. You’ve been a good, wise friend Perceptor. I’ll miss your advice and your keen intellect.”

Perceptor shook Jetfire’s hand and he looked at Jetfire sadly. “I am truly sorry about Valkyrie. I did not know her long, but she was a brave Autobot and a noble comrade. As have you been. Not since Optimus Prime himself have I seen an Autobot so courageous and so willing to put innocent lives before their own. All of Cybertron will miss you.”

Jetfire was shocked by Perceptor’s assertions and stammered, “Thank-you Perceptor.” He turned and slowly walked away, heading for the airlock he had entered at. He opened it and jumped out into space, sealing the airlock before transforming into his fighter mode. Valkyrie was gone and Jetfire could only take comfort in the fact that he would soon be with her beyond the Matrix. He lit his afterburners and streaked towards the center of the planetary system.

The alien horde had arrived. The fiery yellow aliens immediately began to hurl fireballs at the force field, attempting to tear it down. Skids motioned for the others to hold their fire until the enemy had massed along the slope to the ridge. “Fire!” He shouted over the comlink and as one the transports, Autobots, and Shockwave opened fire. A section of the force field opened just long enough for the barrage to fly through before sealing itself. Missiles and laser energy tore into the front lines of the aliens, dropping dozens of them.

The aliens began to retreat instantly, seeking cover. None was to be had and Skids ordered everyone to launch another volley. More aliens were killed and the horde wheeled back towards the force field. Sensing themselves between a rock and a hard place, the aliens began to pound the force field with everything they had. “It isn’t going to last much longer!” Wheeljack shouted, seeing that the power of the field was nearly exhausted from the massive beating it had sustained.

“Everyone get ready!” Skids commanded. He knelt down behind the dirt and stone wall he had carved for himself and readied his rifle. Once the aliens were through, the battle would turn into a close-quarters brawl and then Primus only knew what would happen. The Transformers loosed a pair of barrages before the force field finally went down. The swarm of aliens had been reduced by a quarter all ready, but there were still nearly a thousand of them.

The aliens surged ahead as the force field collapsed and the Cybertronians opened fire. They cut down more of the horde, but the aliens formed into smaller groups and charged for the transports and fortifications. Skids and Wheeljack were the closest and nearly a hundred aliens descended upon them, hurling fireballs that smashed into the fortifications and began to wear them away. Skids fired over his fortification, firing round after round until a fireball caught him in the left shoulder. His gun flew from his hand just as another fireball smashed into his chest and sent him toppling to the ground.

Wheeljack fired his rifle and missile launcher at the aliens attacking Skids, trying to make his way to help his friend. He ran from behind his wall and across open terrain, moving wildly to avoid being hit by a fireball. One of the flaming projectiles hit his right shoulder and his missile launcher exploded, taking off his right arm and damaging that side of his face. Wheeljack kept moving towards Skids until a pair of fireballs hit his left leg at the thigh, nearly severing it. Wheeljack pitched forward and crawled towards his friend. A fireball ripped into the side of his chest and Wheeljack was finally stilled.

Shockwave was near the rear, firing from his gun mode. He saw Wheeljack and Skids fall and felt a surge of something run through him. He couldn’t identify it, but watching the Autobots be cut down brought back memories of Cybertrax, when the Cybertraxians he had been with were all killed, save one. They had given their lives to defend Shockwave and Scarecrow as they reprogrammed the astrogation computers inside of Cybertrax. They had given their lives to save the universe from Cybertrax and he had been unable to help them.

Now it was all happening again. This time it was his Autobot friends sacrificing themselves in order to defeat the alien horde so that its evil could not spread to other worlds and take more innocent lives. Shockwave transformed and saw Wheeljack and Skids lying in the dirt, their inert forms scarred and blackened from fireballs. Wheeljack still lay with his face in the dirt, his remaining arm reaching towards Skids. Then Shockwave turned towards the transports and could see the aliens turning towards them to destroy Beachcomber and Grapple. A small contingent was also heading towards him, but he did not care.

“I will not let it happen again! I will not stand idly by and allow these Autobots to give their lives for a noble cause!” Shockwave could feel something possess him, a kind of blind fury that he had never known before. He screamed a blood-curdling war cry and leapt from behind his position of cover. He began to fire madly and charged into the midst of the alien horde, who were turning away from the transports to face this new threat.

Shockwave poured energy from the cannon that was his right hand into the aliens, destroying one after another at close range. When his systems told him that he was low on energon, he transferred all power from other systems and kept firing. The aliens hit him with fireballs, but the Decepticon warrior would not fall. After he was out of energy for his weapon, he used it as a club, smashing it right and left amongst the aliens who clamored to try and take down the seemingly unstoppable warrior. He tore at the aliens with his left hand as well, ripping apart the aliens limb from limb. At one point he had torn the arm from one creature and wielded it like a club, bringing it down upon its fellows until it was nothing more than a useless heap of bloody flesh. He cast it aside and continued his relentless assault, even as he was hit again and again by fireballs, fists, and feet.

For hours the battle raged, until the light was becoming visible over the horizon. Beachcomber and Grapple did what they could to help, and slowly the tide of the battle began to turn. The maelstrom that had formed around Shockwave slowly began to subside, and yet the Decepticon was still on his feet, fighting as though inspired by a god. His armor was almost completely disintegrated except for a few fragments that clung to his blackened, skeletal frame. Many of his internal systems were completely destroyed, and yet somehow Shockwave kept fighting. He beat aside one after another alien that pressed against him. He stomped upon the fallen with his feet, ripped into the flesh beyond the fiery exteriors with his left hand, and smashed open skulls with his right arm. No quarter was given to any of the fallen, and yet the enemy still came, still tore and shot at this seemingly invincible enemy.

Beachcomber and Grapple finally joined the fray when the weapons on the transports were used up. They fired their weapons until they were useless, and then used the rifles as clubs, trying desperately to penetrate to the heart of the storm to reach Shockwave and save him before he expired. Light finally touched the battlefield and still the fight continued. Shockwave’s right arm was finally torn off at the elbow and he grabbed the fallen limb with his left arm. He smashed the limb into the aliens, roaring with renewed fury. Alien fireballs battered his left leg and finally it gave way, snapping off at the knee. Shockwave pitched forward, but continued to fight from the ground.

The aliens, numbering less than twenty now, could sense victory. Half of them pushed the two Autobots back while the remainder tore into Shockwave’s fallen form. They clawed at him and launched fire into him at close range. Shockwave’s left arm was finally neutralized and the aliens roared with triumph.

The Autobots renewed their attack, struggling desperately to make it to their comrade’s side before he was finished off. They were both badly damaged, but neither took notice, all they cared about was saving the former enemy who had fought so valiantly to destroy the alien menace. They smashed through the alien line and reached Shockwave’s side. The Decepticon was nearly dead, and yet his eye continued to glow strongly with life. Only a handful of aliens remained and together Beachcomber and Grapple destroyed them one at a time, ignoring the damage they took from the aliens’ final shots. Then, as the last of the creatures fell to the dirt, silence was draped about the battlefield like a stifling curtain.

Beachcomber and Grapple sank down to their knees next to Shockwave and helped him sit up. “We have...won?” Shockwave asked.

“Yes, thanks to you,” Grapple replied sadly.

“Optimus himself could not have fought so well,” Beachcomber added.

“I did...nothing. It was the only...logical...thing...to...do,” Shockwave responded, his voice fading as his spark prepared to transition from the realm of the living. The two Autobots gently laid Shockwave down as his spark emerged from his body, flying high into the sky. It seemed to hesitate a moment, as if it wanted to come back and cling to life, but then it continued its upward trek and vanished from sight. Shockwave’s body turned gray and cold and the two Autobots knelt over him silently for a long time. They finally stirred and went over to their fallen Autobot comrades. Wheeljack and Skids were both grievously wounded, but their sparks had gone into emergency stasis so that they would live.

Grapple looked around the battlefield, where alien corpses were piled in bloody heaps all around like a final monument to Shockwave’s heroic sacrifice. He had known the Decepticon for a long time, and never had he thought he would see the day when a Decepticon would fight so bravely for such a noble cause. “He gave his life for us...all of us,” Grapple whispered and looked up at the sky.

“He sacrificed himself so that future generations would never again be terrorized by this demon horde,” Beachcomber agreed.

“When we get back to Cybertron I will build a memorial to him like that the universe has never known,” Grapple vowed.

Beachcomber laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder and nodded. “I’ll help you.” Then they took the bodies of Skids and Wheeljack to the Pathfinder for transport back to the Odyssey. As they took off in the transport, the Autobots looked down at the battlefield, where those of his enemies surrounded Shockwave's corpse. “We have to come back down here, to give him a proper funeral,” Beachcomber said.

“Yes,” Grapple agreed. “Just try to stop me.” The Pathfinder leapt higher into the air and it was only as they neared the atmosphere that the two Autobots thought to wonder what had become of Scarecrow or Skyfire.

Jetfire passed the innermost planet of the system and could feel the heat from the orange, medium-sized star ahead of him. He steeled himself for what he was about to do and could only hope that he made it close enough to the star to do so. His sensors estimated only another five minutes before he reached the point of no return, when the star’s gravity would be too powerful for him to break away. After that, there could be no turning back.

Jetfire could feel something approaching, something dark and sinister. He knew that Scarecrow would not succeed in his fight against Unicron, that nothing but the destruction of the Matrix could stop Unicron once and for all. A ball of purple energy surged past Jetfire and he knew that Unicron was on his tail, trying to stop Jetfire from his mission.

“Where is the Matrix of Harmony?” Unicron demanded, his voice rumbling through Jetfire’s comlink

“It is with me, you will have to tear open my chest to find it,” Jetfire replied, urging himself to go faster. He still did not know why he had taken the Matrix of Harmony when he had gone to the Matrix shrine to consult the Matrix, he had just felt that it was something that he had to do. It was as though some unseen force had compelled him to take it. Jetfire avoided more of Unicron’s shots and thought back to what Scarecrow had told him. Fate, destiny, whatever it is, it knew that this would happen, that this battle would take place. I have lived for over four million years, and yet even before then my end was foretold, my fate already sealed. There were only two minutes until he could no longer turn back, and Jetfire knew that Unicron was preparing for a final attack.

“Perhaps I should kill you as I did your lover and exterminate you as a weak fleshling. Or perhaps I should annihilate you like your Predacon comrade, disintegrating you and forever ridding the universe of even the most microscopic trace of your existence.” Jetfire felt his fluids go cold as his worst fears were confirmed. Unicron had killed Valkyrie, the only one he had ever truly loved, the one whose soul was linked to him. He forced himself to press ahead, knowing that there was nothing he could do to destroy Unicron with his weapons. Valkyrie, Scarecrow, and all the others Unicron had killed would be avenged, once and for all time.

Seeing that Jetfire would not take the bait and drop back to fight, Unicron unleashed a wave of energy like he had used against Scarecrow. Jetfire quickly dove down and spun hard to the right, the wave flying over him and disappearing. Unicron followed Jetfire’s maneuver, and Jetfire could see that only thirty seconds remained. Unicron fired another wave and Jetfire deftly avoided it, continuing on course. He twirled around through space like a corkscrew as Unicron unleashed a final, hellish assault with everything he had. Jetfire was hit in the middle of the fuselage, but regained control and kept going.

“Warning: temperatures rising past tolerances,” a computerized voice told Jetfire and he shut it off. He vented all of his power to his heat shields and only hoped that he could make it. There was a beep in his cockpit and he stoically noted that he had reached the point of no return. Still he forged ahead, the heat and gravity threatening to destroy him.

He plunged ahead until he was only five miles from the surface of the star. Jetfire began to transform, his gears howling in protest. His body shimmered silver and then partially reverted to his Skyfire form. However, the liquid metal was beginning to buble, and so Skyfire’s exterior was streaked with bubbling silver metal. He reached back for his weapon, as he could see Unicron coming to swoop down on him before he fell into the star, but his rifle was melted. When his hand went forward, it had become a lump of bubbling liquid slag. “Ultra Combat mode,” he commanded, but the intense heat was taking its toll on his interior as well, fusing his circuits together in many places and melting his internal mechanisms.

“You are finished, you foul spawn of Primus!” Unicron shouted with triumph.

As Unicron spoke, Skyfire’s exterior boiled off completely, leaving his internals exposed to the star. The strong Cybertronian alloys were stressed well beyond their limits and begun to turn into slag. Seeing his victory at hand, Unicron swept down towards the helpless Maximal. Skyfire could do nothing, what remained of him was little more than the Matrix, his spark, and a lump of nearly unrecognizable slag.

“At last, the Matrices will be mine!” Unicron roared and his body of energy entered what remained of Skyfire to bond with the Matrix and take its power. Skyfire could feel Unicron growing more and more powerful and could feel darkness all around him. The last of Skyfire’s systems failed and his universe went dark.

When next he looked around, he was standing on a dark, empty plain. He looked at his hand and realized that it was made only of pale blue energy, the energy from his spark. The plain suddenly lit up with purple light, and Skyfire could see Unicron, reaching for the Matrix of Harmony that was hovering in the air. “They are mine now, Maximal!” Unicron called.

Skyfire suddenly realized what he had to do. He charged forward and dove at Unicron, knocking monster off of his feet. Unicron grappled with Skyfire, but the Maximal would not let him up, fighting with more intensity than he ever had in his existence. Just a few more seconds, Skyfire thought. “You cannot hope to destroy me, fool. You are no match for me,” Unicron sneered and Skyfire punched him in the face and then leapt off of Unicron.

“No, you are no match for me. Your powers are useless against me, now that I am dead and my spark beyond the reach of even the Matrix,” Skyfire replied.

“As am I,” Valkyrie’s voice cried out and emerged from the darkness, her form once more that of the Autobot warrior she had been.

“The same for me,” Scarecrow growled and he too appeared from the darkness.

“For Valkyrie, Scarecrow, and all free beings in the universe, I banish you back to where you belong! Back to the fiery Pit where your spark will languish for all eternity! Never again will you terrorize innocent creatures! Never again shall any suffer your schemes and ambitions! Never again shall anyone have to sacrifice their life in order to stop you! What was foretold has now come to pass. My destiny is complete!”

Before Unicron could escape, the spirits of the three Transformers stepped towards Unicron, each latching hold of him with an iron grip, even as he struggled against them with all of his strength. Fire began to rip through the darkness and Unicron screamed as it touched him and ripped his body asunder. The three heroes stepped back and watched white light explode from the Matrix of Harmony as fire consumed it. The white light rippled out from the darkness and burst from Skyfire’s remains as they tumbled into the surface of the star and evaporated.

The wave of light continued throughout the universe, to where each of the Matrices were kept. On numerous worlds, the revered, holy artifacts suddenly vanished in a burst of light and populations of billions were left to wonder what had happened and if it was a miracle or a curse. On Cybertron, the bearer of the Autobot Matrix of Leadership collapsed and could feel a pain they had never known, as if billions of voices were crying out for salvation. The disturbance passed and yet the Matrix remained where it was. Although kindred spirits to the other Matrices, the special Matrix given to Primus by Cybertrax was not linked to the Matrix of Harmony, and could not be destroyed by it. Nevertheless, the bearer of the Matrix, and all those in the future could feel a certain sadness taint the Matrix, a sadness like that of losing a friend or comrade.

The wave of energy finally dissipated, and only then was the task complete. The Matrices Cybertrax had created were gone, their powers unable to ever be tapped again by mere mortals. Their power resided back where it belonged, to distant realms that no being could comprehend until they made that final journey from life to death.

Epilogue

For two weeks, young Kari Chomar had spent her days looking out the window of the orphanage, wishing that her parents would come. She had talked to no one and only sat by the window and listened to the snickering of her fellow orphans, who believed her mad. As they should, for once found by authorities, the girl had discovered that there were no records of her, and that the parents she claimed to have had never existed.

She didn’t know what to think any longer. What was real and what was fiction had all blended together. Perhaps the strange dream she had had was not a dream, but reality. Perhaps all of this was a dream and she was still standing in the rain in an alley, faced by an evil demon. What difference did it make? In either world she had no friends, no family, and no home.

As darkness fell, Kari crawled into her bed, the sheets enveloping her small body. She refused to eat, bathe, or do anything but stare out the window and had been kept alive only by food and water forced down her throat. As she did every night, Kari wept quietly in bed, tears streaming down her chubby cheeks and staining the sheets. She didn’t know if she was weeping for being trapped in this place, for her parents, or for something else she could not even describe.

As she wiped away some of the tears, she saw a faint white glow hovering at the edge of her bed. She sat up and saw a familiar form outlined by the light. She could not remember who he was, but she remembered him from her dream. He was a man whom the demon had destroyed in her dream. How could he be here now?

“Kari,” the man whispered, his voice seeming to echo through eternity. “Your task is complete. Now I have come to free you once and for all.”

“Who are you?” Kari asked timidly. The man reached out a hand and it gently caressed Kari’s face and tousled her short hair like a summer breeze. “Tai,” she breathed, the memories suddenly coming back to her.

“It is I, Kari. I come to bring you the peace you have earned. You have long suffered for the desires and ambitions of others. At last you have earned your reward.” He extended his hand to her and slowly Kari stood up. She reached out and took the hand and her own small body began to glow. The light began to grow stronger and she was lifted up off the bed. Tai took her into his arms and with one final burst, the light faded. Kari Chomar was never seen or heard from again.

The five Autobots stood around the body of Shockwave, their heads hung with grief. The Odyssey had landed a short distance away and preparations had begun immediately for the funeral. Skids and Wheeljack had spent hours in the restoration chamber, but Wheeljack was still missing his arm, he did not want to delay the funeral and so wore a covering over his right shoulder socket. Skids, now the commander of the Autobots, stepped forward towards where Shockwave lay.

“My friends, we have assembled here to say farewell to a brave and dear comrade. Others were lost in this war...friends who will never be replaced.” Skids stopped as his voice faltered. He thought of Valkyrie, Scarecrow, and Skyfire and for several long moments could not continue. “Of all of them, none fought so bravely against so many odds. Outnumbered a thousand to one, Shockwave stood his ground and fought valiantly. It is because of him that all of us are here, that we are still alive to celebrate his memory.”

“None of us will ever forget him or what he did, how he sacrificed himself so selflessly, with no thought to his own life. He gave so that others might live without fear, without evil darkening their lives. For that we are in his debt.”

“None of us will ever forget this Decepticon warrior whom we fought against in the bitter civil war that lasted for over four million years. He was an enemy then, but now in the end he has become a friend we will all remember and whom future generations will never forget. He fought more courageously than ourselves were capable of and turned certain defeat into victory. His spark is now one with the Matrix, taking its place with Cybertron’s greatest heroes and defenders. We salute our comrade and hope that we can learn from his selfless sacrifice.” Skids stepped back with the others and Beachcomber pressed a button on the incinerator Shockwave’s corpse was lying on. As it began to glow and disintegrate Shockwave’s body, the Autobots turned their heads skyward and sang an ancient Autobot hymn to honor all of their fallen friends. The incinerator finished and the Autobots slowly trudged back towards the Odyssey to begin preparing for their journey home.

Skids sat in the Odyssey’s command chair as the ship took off. He and the others knew that with only part of the ship it would take centuries for them to return home. Still, Skids had promised Jetfire that he would get the crew home. Silence hung over the bridge as no one dared to speak. Wheeljack had returned to the restoration chamber while the others tended to their stations, taking inventory of what remained.

Skids closed his eyes and suddenly from the blackness came a soft blue glow. Skids could see the shadowy forms of Skyfire and Valkyrie. They smiled at him and Skids could see Valkyrie reach out her hand and touch his shoulder. “You’ve been my best friend, Skids, but do not grieve for me. Skyfire and I are together and this time nothing can tear us apart. We will miss you, but when your spark finally travels beyond the Matrix we will be here to welcome you. I know that when you reach home you will find someone who can love you the way I would have liked to, were not my love for Skyfire so strong.” Valkyrie pulled away and Skyfire smiled once more at his friend.

“When you return home, make certain that all know of your deeds and what you have accomplished here. We can never forget what can happen when ambition and pride are set above all else. Honor our memories and those of all who have fallen here. It is time that we go, but we will meet again, Skids. Until then, remember what we have said and what you have seen.” Both Valkyrie and Skyfire faded from view and Skids opened his eyes to find the others looking strangely at him.

“Skids, is something wrong?” Grapple asked.

Skids shook his head. “No, it’s nothing. What’s our status?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but when we entered orbit our sensors picked up something,” Beachcomber began.

“What was it?” Skids asked.

“The rest of the Odyssey...intact,” Perceptor finished.

“That’s impossible!” Skids blurted out, but when he stood he could see the other three-quarters sitting a short distance away, looking as though nothing had happened. “It’s...it’s a miracle.” He breathed and sensed that the visit from Valkyrie and Skyfire had something to do with it.

“We have determined that it is no illusion,” Perceptor reported.

“Can we dock with it and reunite the ship?”

“It’ll be tricky, but nothing we can’t handle,” Grapple replied.

A smile spread across Skids’ face as he looked around the bridge at the other Autobots. He had served with none better than these, nor, he knew, would he ever. He clapped Grapple’s shoulder and said quietly, “Let’s go home then.” Grapple nodded and slowly maneuvered the front quarter towards the remainder.

It was only then that Skids wondered what would happen next. The Matrices were gone, Unicron defeated, and the alien horde destroyed, what still awaited them out there? Perhaps, he thought, we’ll finally have peace. One thing he did know was that with the Matrices, Cybertrax, and Unicron gone, the destiny begun billions of years ago had finally come to an end. We’ll have to make our own way now, Skids thought. No one will help us or guide us, we mortals will finally have to create our own path through the cosmos. As he sunk back into the command chair, Skids sighed contentedly. Destiny is in our own hands now.

The End

(Thank goodness)