Dream Planet. Book 1. Star Maze

Chapter 7. Attack

Chapter 7. Attack

The Kramean spacecraft, one hour later.

Marcius felt the spaceship still preparing for the jump. The pilots must have already calculated the route to the first tunnel. They were now flying between the Kramean and Pacifian orbit.  

He was looking into the porthole and drifting off to sleep when all of a sudden something suspicious appeared on the cosmic horizon. Marcius lifted himself up above the bed and came close to the porthole. He saw a light moving towards them very quickly. It was a fleet of spaceships. At first he thought it might have been Tulonian, but such jagged trajectory of movement was characteristic only for Pacifians. Hundreds of spheres came into view - small singles as well as monstrous giant ones. They were all military, covered with battle spikes on the surface. They looked like sea urchins and were very dangerous and uncomfortable in combat. The appearance of so many warships beside a Kramean vessel couldn't have been an accident.     

Marcius saw that an attack was on the way.

"The Pacifians figured out that the Krameans know the way to salvation," he guessed and grabbed his beam, "They understood that the coordinates won't be shared and thus decided to get them by force."

Marcius was trained for battle with Pacifians. He knew all their moves. If the crystal had gained enough speed, they wouldn't be able to catch it, but as it was, the Krameans were in a very vulnerable position. The Pacifian emperor set his whole army out to catch them.  

"They want to seize the crystal and take the coordinates from the system of navigation," he analyzed, "They're not likely to leave anyone alive!"

Marcius started to swing his magnetic beam over his head, creating a protective field around himself. The Pacifians could open fire at any minute.

Alta stood by the door and couldn't see what was happening outside, but she caught on to the negatively charged consciousness directed at them. With her inner eye, she scanned the space around the crystal - enemy spheres were everywhere.

She opened the door. Marcius stood inside a translucent white cocoon created by the beam's rotation. Clouds of Pacifian spheres swarmed behind him in the porthole.  

"Follow me!" Alta yelled.

Marcius ran out the door without stopping his beam's rotation. The Pacifians fired. Long beams of light shot out of the spikes on their spheres and went right through the hard exterior of the ship in narrow threads without damaging the crystal or the metal. The beams could only damage living organisms and other organic matter - they immediately cut through anything that was alive like razor-sharp blades.

Thanks to his magnetic cocoon, Marcius remained untouched by the beams. He reflected them like a mirror and sent them ricocheting back at the Pacifians. Marcius spun the beam ceaselessly, chasing away death. Atla took her shield off her back and expanded it, using it to ward off the beams. It was harder for her than for Marcius, whose body was protected head to toe. He didn't even have to keep track of the shots, just as long as he kept up his rotation. Atla, on the other hand, needed to put her undivided attention into her deflections, so it was harder for her to run, and she had trouble keeping up with him. They weren't alone in the corridor. The other Krameans were going to the same place they were. Marcius guessed that they were all heading towards the emergency ship to make their escape.  

In an instant, the spaceship was covered with a whole net of beams. The spheres flooded it on all sides and shot beams out blindly in all directions - they had no need for precision, since the idea was to create a net so tight that not a single living thing on the enemy ship could withstand it.

One of the Krameans turned on an electric field. With a discharge of electricity, the crystal threw the swarm of spheres off itself, giving itself a bit of a break. It started to gain speed, but the Pacifians didn't let up either. The Krameans launched their missiles, which shot out of the narrowest part of the crystal, located at the bottom. They struck down some of the bigger spheres and spooked away the little ones, but it wasn't enough. There were many more to take their place, and they gathered at the top, out of the missiles' reach.

More and more spheres attached themselves to the crystal, and the net of beams grew more refined. One by one, the Krameans fell down dead. Seeing that Atla was no longer managing by herself, Marcius took her under his cocoon and they ran together.   

"Had the Krameans been equipped with the same beams as me, they would have survived," he thought.

The further they ran, the more cut-up lifeless Kramean bodies they encountered.

The net got tighter, and the crystal's protective shield wasn't holding up to the pressure. Layers and layers of spheres appeared out of nowhere; the smaller spheres were accompanied by the bigger ones, which were more dangerous, since their beams were capable of destroying more than just organic matter. Even though they were powerless against the massive crystal shell, they could still reach the structure within. Walls, corridors, floors and ceilings cracked at the seams; everything around started to crumble, and the floor shook beneath their feet. Glass lining shattered to pieces all around.  

"Our only chance is at the end of the hall!" yelled Atla.

The grinding of breaking metal tore at their eardrums. Sparks and Pacifian beams lashed out everywhere. The corridor they were running along bent out of shape, and the floor began to slant. Marcius managed to keep his footing and ran onwards, but Atla lost her balance and tumbled down. Her body landed into a c***k and got trapped by a shard off the ceiling. She cried out in pain. Marcius turned - she was far down below, among the dead bodies and shards of metal, beams flashing all around. Just a second more and they'd take off her head.   

"Keep going!" she yelled, seeing him stop.

Marcius looked ahead. He could already see the emergency crystal at the end of the hall and was just about to run to it, but something deep inside held him back. He suddenly turned around, swung his beam, lengthening it, and wrapped it around Atla's arms. With a sharp tug, he pulled her out. In that moment, they were both unprotected before the Pacifians' needles of light, but luckily they remained unscathed. Pulling her towards him, he threw her over his left shoulder - she was in no condition to run. With his right hand, he continued to rotate he beam.   

The corridor led them to the top tier of the crystal. It ended with a spacious pavilion, the emergency craft at its center, but even here everything had already been damaged. The spare ship was an exact replica of the crystal, but ten times smaller. It had already been started by those who managed to reach it first - it was open and surrounded by several bodies. Light beams zapped all around.

Marcius ran inside, but no one was left alive.

"Higher!" Atla yelled.

He ran to the top. All three pilots were gathered in the room of navigation. They had less distance to cover and had managed to reach the craft alive, but their bodies were maimed by the beams. Beside the control panel he saw the wounded young pilot, hiding behind two shields. Beside him was the elder, barely alive, and the dead body of the middle-aged Kramean. They'd already prepared the ship for takeoff.   

"Put me down!" ordered the priestess.

Marcius brought her down to the floor. With a limp, she came over to the old man. Marcius came after her, maintaining his cocoon.

"Get under our cocoon!" Atla ordered the pilot.

The young Kramean crawled towards them into the safe space of the magnetic beam.

"I destroyed all data containing the coordinates. They won't receive them!" wheezed the old man with a cough.  

Atla took his hand, wanting to say something, but she wasn't quick enough. He helplessly dropped his head, emitting his last breath.

Atla looked at the remaining pilot, her eyes full of tears.

"Takeoff! No one else will make it now!"

The pilot touched his headband. The terrible racket sounded almost like an explosion. The emergency ship shot out into space, using its perishing brother as a launch pad. They were thrown upwards as if by a catapult. The bigger crystal gave its last resources to launch them as far out as possible. The emergency crystal flew off in a flash, far away from the point of battle.   

But the Pacifians were well prepared. They placed their ranks within the radius of ejection, in case anyone managed to reach the emergency craft.

Marcius saw them through the porthole.

Atla removed the headband from the head of the old man and put it onto her own. She ripped the headband off the other dead pilot as well and handed it to Marcius.

"All three of us will navigate!" she ordered.

The pilot coordinated the direction of movement, even though he was very weak. Atla controlled the speed, and Marcius monitored their surroundings, getting ready to ward off any pursuers. He didn't understand how, but along with the headband he received the knowledge of navigation and attack. He understood the commands of Atla and the young pilot without words. He knew what they would do, and acted in synchrony, as if they had one brain among the three of them. The spheres were on their tail. They'd managed to escape the main squad, and only the most swift and persistent of the bunch were after them.  

"Have you already contacted Krama?" Atla asked the pilot.

The young Kramean didn't utter a single sound, but already she understood everything. The crystal's center of communication was destroyed.

"Head over to Yurei," she ordered.

The young pilot didn't hear her as he collapsed. Atla and Marcius ran over to him; the girl ripped open his suit. The clothes concealed the seriousness of his injuries. His side was slashed open, and the cut appeared to be very deep. With such an injury, it was amazing he'd survived for any length of time at all. He must have been in agony.

"Don't you dare die!" she begged him, one hand under his head, the other on his hand. The young man gave her one last smile, squeezed her hand and left his body.  

Atla screamed at the top of her lungs, laying her head on his chest.

"We're doomed!" she told Marcius, "Three people are needed to navigate the spaceship!"

Marcius sat down, for several moments remaining completely still. There were no other survivors on board - only him, Atla and a pile of dead bodies.

The spheres were rapidly approaching, already reaching them with their needles. Marcius stood beside Atla and swung his beam.

"But can we still shoot?" he asked.

"Yes!" she said loudly.

Marcius opened fire onto the spheres. The emergency craft worked in line with the same principles as the big one - it also contained charges of liquid hydrogen. They had speed at their advantage, which they'd gained at takeoff; the spheres had trouble keeping up with them. Only the strongest remained at their tail - about a dozen of them. Every second shot that Marcius fired reached its intended destination. He shot down six spheres with prefect precision, destroying them completely. With the others he'd only managed to damage their needles. The sphere leading the pack, however, was surprisingly agile. He wasted four charges on it, and every time it managed to escape unharmed.  

"Stop!" Atla yelled.

Marcius looked at her, confused.

"We need to catch one of them!" she said.

"What?" he asked in surprise.

"We'll capture one of them and force him to be our third pilot," she ordered.

"You're crazy!" he objected.

"Do it!"

"What can I say? If I can't knock that one down then perhaps I can at least capture him," said Marcius, squinting at the first sphere.

The laboratory downstairs contained a mechanical claw for collecting specimens. It worked like an excavator, sliding out of the bottom part of the crystal, scooping the contents and placing them in a container. Marcius already made contact with it telepathically. During contact, it was like an avatar of his own hand. Only three spheres remained on their tail - no fresh ranks were dispatched to the chase. The Pacifians were probably happy enough with their capture of the large crystal, not yet knowing that it harbored no coordinates. Nonetheless, the remaining three spheres were very persistent.  

Marcius let them come very close, allowing them to fire the beams. The elusive sphere that previously evaded his shots came the closest, and as it did so, he sharply reduced the speed of their craft. The sphere almost collided with the crystal, but managed to brake in the nick of time. It went below the crystal, just as Marcius intended. The two others flew by overhead. He could only reach the bottom one with the claw, and without hesitation, reached out to grab it. He caught it quickly, on the first try. He had the element of surprise on his side, and the Pacifian had no chance of escape. Marcius dragged the sphere into the compartment. He broke off all its needles, fixing it to the center of the bottom pavilion. The needles were not only a weapon, but also a means of communication. Now the Pacifian couldn't even relay his capture to the others, and all that remained was to get rid of the witnesses.

"Shoot!" Marcius yelled, seeing that the other two spheres were very close.    

Atla swept the craft upwards and fired all their remaining shots. One was shot down, and a shard from its wreckage hit the other one, sending it spinning off to the side and rendering it dysfunctional. Everything went silent, and the beams disappeared. Atla set the speed to maximum capacity, but they still needed a third pilot to set the route. They were flying at crazy speed in a completely unknown direction.  

"What now?" Marcius asked, "We've captured the Pacifian, he's downstairs!"

Atla nodded, listening to the sounds coming from below. The sphere was trying to break free, tossing from side to side.

"Now we have to convince him to be our third pilot. Otherwise, we'll crash into something sooner or later, and that will be the end of us."

"Good luck," said Marcius. He didn't believe she'd be able to do it. The Pacifians were  zealots who'd sooner die than enter into an agreement with the enemy. Marcius couldn't see how she'd convince him to take her side.  

They carefully descended to the lower level, as if wary of scaring away their prey. The sphere was at the very center of the laboratory, held in place by the claw. It was trying to move, but the powers were unmatched. Marcius confirmed that all the needles were knocked off its surface and removed the cocoon. Both he and Atla looked at the sphere with unbridled curiosity. The Pacifian inside already displayed his character when he was still chasing after them. He was the most stealthy and persistent of his rank, and it was foolish to expect from him an easy agreement to compromise.

"I'll try to read his thoughts," said Atla. She came up to the sphere and started to listen.

"I can't hear anything," she said.

"Is he dead?" asked Marcius.

"I don't think so," said the girl, "Military Pacifians have a protective plate implanted into their head to shield them from Krameans."

Atla knocked. The Pacifian didn't react.

"He's scared," she said.

They looked in silence at the stubborn, lifeless sphere. They needed to come up with something quickly.

"Well of course!" Marcius exclaimed all of a sudden, "The little pest will be able to see us if we figure out where exactly the portholes are located!" In theory, he knew that the Pacifian spheres see the outside world through tiny openings.

The sphere was completely uniform on the surface. Marcius lit his way with his beam, and Atla - with her shield, but they weren't able to find anything until they thought of turning the sphere around. The opening was at the bottom and looked like a razor-thin glowing strip.

 "He's upside down in there," Atla caught on.

Marcius turned the sphere so that the Pacifian occupied a more natural position and saw them at the right angle.

"I hope he forgives us for that," said Marcius quietly.

Atla shrugged.

"If he sees us, we can write him a message," she decided.

Marcius nodded. It was a good idea.

Atla removed her shield from behind her back and put it out in front of her. She closed her eyes and it released beams of light in different directions. They formed a round glowing surface. Atla placed it vertically in front of the sphere and started to write. She thought to herself, and the text appeared on the field of light.

"Hello. We've captured you out of necessity, and we don't wish to harm you. We need three people in order to navigate the spaceship, and we have only two on board. We need another pilot, and that's why you're here. Open the sphere and come out - we won't shoot. If you don't come out, we will all perish!"

"Also tell him that the Pacifians are no longer pursuing us - we've shaken them off," Marcius suggested. She added on that information into the text:

"The Pacifians can no longer save you - it's just the three of us now for miles and miles of open space."

"Tell him about the connection," Marcius corrected her.

"We've lost our means of communication on our craft, and we can't call for help. We really need you!"

Atla repeated the message several times, adding more and more detail to it. But everything was in vain, and the soldier in the sphere showed no response. She was completely exhausted and sat down off to the side, leaning her back against the wall. Marcius sat down beside her. For a long time they were silent, never taking their eyes off the opening. They both knew that the Pacifian could hear and see them, but how to reach him still remained a complete mystery.  

Marcius looked at Atla. There were tears in her eyes.

"All those people that just died, they were all my friends, every single one," she whispered, sobbing.

Marcius sympathized with her. Even though he felt no regret for the death of the Kramean squad, his heart went out to her in particular. Marcius could easily imagine what she felt right now.    

"When the creature ventures forth from the sphere, we'll be able to return to Krama and everything will work out just fine!" he tried to cheer her up.

"What?!" she objected.

Marcius looked at her in surprise, not understanding what he said wrong.

"To Krama?" asked the priestess. There was a crazed look in her eyes.

"Yes, the expedition fell through," said Marcius calmly.

"I'm not going back to Krama!" Atla retorted sharply, “We’re going to find the new world!"

"But we need people and resources!" said Marcius, bewildered.

He didn't expect that in catching the sphere she planned to set off to find the lifesaving world along with just him and the Pacifian.

"We have people - you, me, and this beast," she gestured towards the sphere.

Marcius didn't agree.

"Even if the Pacifian comes out and we manage to convince him to work with us, then the best thing would be to reach the nearest interplanetary station and go our separate ways. You have the coordinates, and so do I. At home you can gather a new team and go off to search. I will obviously do the same."  

"You don't understand," she said, "If a war has started because of the coordinates, then the next team awaits the same fate. It will be a deadly chase. Do you really want to set everyone onto each other?"

Marcius thought it over.

"Our only chance is to fly there together right now!" she continued. "No one knows where we are, or that we're even alive, and we're the only ones that have the coordinates. Maybe that world isn't even fit for people like us - we'll have to check it ourselves. And only then will we return."

Atla swiftly got up and came up to the sphere. She started to bang her hand hysterically against its surface.

"Get out, quickly! We need a third pilot!"

The Pacifian didn't react. Time went by, but there was no response. Both Atla and Marcius grew full of despair.

"Sooner or later thirst and hunger will get to him and he'll have to come out," said Atla angrily.

"Are you kidding?" asked Marcius. "We're about to enter Tulonian territory, and they'll knock us down. We need to get him out of there at any cost, and as soon as possible."

"What if we pretend that we've gone away? That is, turn off the lights and go upstairs?" she suggested.

"And?"

Atla stood up and walked towards the door. Marcius didn't like her idea, but he went after her. They ascended to the higher level.

"We need to think of what to do with the sphere in the case that he does come out and agrees to work with us," said Atla.

"What do you mean?" Marcius didn't see what she was worried about.

"Having found out the coordinates, he can kill us and use it to escape back to his own world. To be fair, that's something you'd be capable of as well!" Atla predicted.

Marcius smiled. The Kramean was in her element, but he didn't blame her. He didn't trust her either.

"We really damaged the sphere when we caught it, and then he added to the damage when he was trying to escape the claw. It's been punctured," said Marcius, "He isn't going anywhere in that sphere."

The girl believed Marcius. The sphere really didn't look its best.

"For now let's take care of the dead bodies," said Atla.

They dragged the bodies into the freezer division and started to clean the blood off the floor when a person emerged out of the sphere. He stood in the doorway, holding a weapon in front of him. Atla looked at him indifferently, lowered her head and continued cleaning as if nothing had happened. Marcius' reaction was more emotional. He stood up, wiped the blood off his hands and rushed to introduce himself in Pacifian.

"Please don't shoot. I'm Marcius Appa Laun, a pilot from Tulona. We have no ill will towards you."

The Pacifian was silent. In his hand, swinging from a thin silver thread, hung an orb - the Pacifians' weapon of choice. Had he wanted he could have already shot them dead. It was unlikely that Marcius could have knocked the bullets away with his beam, and yet the Pacifian was hesitating.

He was lean, not particularly tall, with typical Pacifian features, likely from the lower ranks of his world. Nonetheless, he carried himself with confidence, looking at them fearlessly, boldly even. The unusual texture of his black hair was immediately noticeable. Each hair was unusually thick, and the whole bunch rose above his head in a style of peculiar shape, compensating for his lack of height. He was somehow reminiscent of his sphere - just as spiky and cold. His eyes were slanted, like with all Pacifians. His gaze shifted from Atla to Marcius and back again, as if deciding where to start.    

"What is a Tulonian like yourself doing here?" he said finally.

"I keep on asking that myself," Marcius smiled, "Wiping off the Kramean blood that you spilled."

The Pacifian didn't react to the joke. Marcius saw that he was too hasty with the answer and decided to tell him everything as it was.

"The Krameans captured me and used by ability to see the faraway world to attain its coordinates."

The Pacifian furled his brows in confusion.

"Don't you know why the Pacifians attacked the Krameans?" Marcius asked him.

"I was following orders," he replied dryly, "It's not my job to know the reason behind the battle."

Marcius nodded. The Pacifian elite never communicated their intentions to mere mortals.

"And yet there was a reason!" Atla joined in, standing up, "We were on our way to find a world capable of sustaining human life. The Seven Worlds are in danger; we need to relocate."

"We think the emperor wanted to seize the coordinates from the Krameans," Marcius continued.

"Don't you talk of Him! You're unworthy!" barked the Pacifian with unexpected harshness.

Marcius apologized. Discussing the actions of the great ruler was an insult in the eyes of the Pacifian.

"I apologize. I know how much Pacifians look up to their ruler, but we only want to explain the situation to you."

"What's your name?" Atla asked.

"You don't need to know that," he replied.  

"Okay, only business then," she said. He was just as difficult to deal with as they'd anticipated.

"The situation is simple. If you won't help us navigate, we'll all die," she explained.

"That much I've understood," he said.

"I realize how this looks. It seems like we've taken you as our prisoner, but believe me, you aren't being held captive. You're an equal among us!" said Marcius.  

The Pacifian's gaze was very intelligent. He was too stubborn, but had his wits about him.

"We want to continue the expedition," Marcius continued, "We only need your agreement to be a part of it."

"How long will it take?" he asked coldly.

"Up to two years," Atla replied, "But in the end you will receive what your people wanted to get a hold of so badly."

"I don't believe you," said the Pacifian, "I'm still alive only because you need a pilot to save your own skin. If not for that, you would have shot me down just like you did the others!"

"Yes," Marcius admitted, "Just like you would have shot us down right now if you didn't need our help to get out of here alive."

The Pacifian nodded and continued:

"You want my help to find the world, and you're promising to just let me go off with the coordinates after?"

"We'll need your help even after we get there. We won't be able to return to the Seven Worlds without you! The three of us need to stick together on our way there as well as on our way back," said Atla.

"In other words," replied the Pacifian, "You affirm that the critical moment will come at the very end of the journey? The moment when we will stop needing each other?"

"Most likely, but we still need to survive up until then," Atla specified.

"I'm aware," he snapped, "All that I'm trying to understand is whether or not it's worth trying to live that long."

"You want to kill us now because you're not sure you'll be able to do so once we return?" asked Marcius.

"Precisely," the Pacifian admitted, "The options are simple. I can kill you now, two dangerous enemies of my world. Then I perish myself, but success is absolutely certain. Otherwise, I live two more years with you and hope that upon return I'll get a chance to finish you off before you try to do the same to me. Likelihood of success - around 30%. As you can see, the answer is evident!"

"Just make sure you take into account that me and her are also enemies," added Marcius dryly, "You offend me by treating us as a team."

"In that case then towards the end she will wish to kill both of us, and you will wish to kill both her and myself. And I'll do everything I can to kill the two of you, because I'm sure we all understand that if that world really is lifesaving, not one of us has any intention of letting the others just walk away with the coordinates. We're soldiers!"  

Marcius looked at him carefully. He truly appreciated how open and direct he was. This manner of interaction sat with him much better than the Krameans' phony smiles. The Pacifian was right.

"I have to admit, I'm taking quite a liking to you," said Marcius suddenly.

The Pacifian raised his brows. Marcius continued:

"Everything that you're saying is true, but you understand that you can give yourself two more years of life, and...." Marcius paused for emphasis, "There's still 30% that you'll be the one to win!"

"Yes," Atla joined in, "Treat this as a competition, if you will."

"And how do you see it?" The Pacifian asked, narrowing his eyes.

"In a different light," she admitted, "I can't calculate the likelihood of my success with such precision. I can't foresee what will happen to us along the way. I act according to the situation, without planning that far ahead. But between life and death I always choose life!"

The Pacifian nodded and turned towards Marcius.

"And you?"

"And I just really want to find that world," said Marcius, "Let's go!"

The Pacifian thought it over. His expression was hard to read. If only he had some grand ambition, a sense of adventure and curiosity! At this point, that was their only saving grace.

Marcius was sure of his answer. He knew that a soldier that led his ranks in battle, so expertly avoiding any shots fired in his direction and daring to talk back to a Kramean priestess and a Tulonian warrior must without a doubt possess all those qualities.

"I'm in," said the Pacifian.