A continuous deep mechanical hum came from the center of the plateau. A thirty-meter gap appeared. Throwing up a faint shaft of artificial light, the gap smoothly opened to form a square.
The metallic V-shaped head of a croatoan pulse cannon rose out of the space.
Charlie instantly recognized the design—the same as the ones mounted on supply shuttles that had made regular trips from the mother ship to the farms spread across Earth—until he blew the mother ship out of the sky.
This version was at least five times larger and attached to a platform that banged into place, filling the gap.
“Now we move,” Hagellan said.
Charlie thought back to Hagellan’s earlier comment about things not being as simple as he thought. They were heading for a tredeyan underground network, and a croatoan pulse cannon had just appeared from below. The attempted colonization of Earth never allowed for known networks, and the only defenses were against humans.
“What kind of relationship do you have with the tredeyans?” Charlie asked.
“Worst of friends. Scion forced us together. They are a machine of death.”
Denver scoffed through the intercom attached to his mask. “They sound exactly like you. Good to know you’re not the universal bully.”
“Idiot,” Hagellan croaked. “They are not life like you or me. The scion are self-replicating entities that consumed all life on their own planet. Croatoans, as you call us, are trying to stop them conquering the galaxy.”
“We might have sympathy if you didn’t try to turn humanity into trays of silver slop,” Layla added.
“It’s all about scale and resources. If you have something they want, they will either take it by force or treaty. It depends on the calculations they make. Tredeya has something they want that can’t be bargained for.”
“Which is?” Layla said.
“It doesn’t matter at the moment. We need to get below the protective electromagnetic shield.” Hagellan raised a gloved finger to the black prism hanging in the brightening sky. “Their ship came to stop the croatoan destroyer. This isn’t a full-scale invasion.”
“How do you know?” Charlie said.
“They regularly test for weakness and deploy probes on the surface to extend their grid. After the ship leaves, the probes will be located and destroyed.”
The ten-meter-high pulse cannon dropped to a forty-five-degree angle, spun, and pointed over Charlie’s head. A light blue bolt shot from the muzzle after an electronic thump. It zipped through the sky toward the scion ship, joining around thirty others fired from other locations on the planet’s surface.
When interrogating a captured driver three years ago, Charlie found out that the cannons fired a concentrated bolt of fusion plasma. Even the small ones proved to be devastating weapons on Earth. They had serious stopping power and provided the most powerful threat after the main body of croatoan soldiers left.
The cannon adjusted its angle to the left and fired again. Hagellan and the guard raced across the plateau.
Charlie nodded at the other two and followed. His boots crunched against loose terracotta-colored scree as they rounded the cannon.
Booms echoed in the sky when they reached the opposite side, but he didn’t turn back to look. A scion fighter raced over a mountain at least a mile away and headed for their location. A bright blue projectile fired from under its right wing and streaked toward the cannon, leaving an arc of vapor behind it.
Denver and Layla slid down the edge and ducked behind two trees.
Charlie sprinted after them and scrambled through the pink ferns. His left foot snagged against something and he flew forward, skidding against the alien foliage on the damp ground.
A loud explosion ripped through the air. Dust and small stones rained through the forest, peppering Charlie’s back. He glanced over his shoulder.
Flames and black smoke towered into the sky.
“Keep moving,” Denver said.
He grabbed Layla’s arm and dragged her up. It never ceased to surprise Charlie how easily Denver adapted to every situation. He guessed it was because his son didn’t carry the baggage of knowing his preinvasion world, where most people had it relatively easy.
Hagellan and the guard stepped from behind a boulder and continued down the side of the hill.
The scion fighter’s engine noise changed from a deep roar to a higher whine. Charlie spotted it between the trees, hovering fifty meters to their left. A bright blue light punched from its underside, through the canopy. It moved around the area in an erratic fashion. The croatoan guard headed to the right, putting further distance between itself and the beam.
“Is it searching for us?” Layla said breathlessly through the intercom.
“Searching for anything,” Hagellan said.
Denver paused, leaned against a tree and viewed the fighter through his sights. “If that thing gets any closer, we fire.”
“You got it,” Charlie said.
“No,” Hagellan said. “Don’t attract it.”
“I’m not talking about attracting it. If it finds us, I’d rather get in the first punch.”
“Only talk if necessary. It might detect our communication system.”
Charlie hated the fact that the two croatoans could hear every word he said to Denver on their mask comms, but this time it proved an advantage. He was big enough to swallow his pride over Hagellan’s knowledge of the threat they faced.
The guard pulled out its sword and hacked at the dense undergrowth on the lower part of the slope. The scion ship continued to whine overhead, but its beam became less visible as natural light stretched across the horizon, giving the sky back its orange tint.
Hagellan stopped at the edge of the canopy and gestured between two trees. “The entrance is over there. We have no cover so need to be fast.”
A two-hundred-meter-long field, covered in root, led to a small hill ahead. The smoldering remains of a pulse cannon sat on top of it. A small alien-made structure, like the cream buildings by the gate, nestled between trees at the bottom.
“Ready when you—” Denver said.
Trees only a few meters behind them rocked against the force of the scion ship’s thrust. Heat burned the back of Charlie’s neck as everything brightened around them. He glanced up. A dazzling light in the sky focused down on their position.
“Spread out and run for the entrance,” Hagellan said.
Charlie darted to his right and charged across the root field.
The stubby orange shoots of an early crop squashed easily against the firm ground under Charlie’s boots. In his peripheral vision, Denver and Layla took the direct path, straight for the building.
Hagellan and the guard broke left, bounding much faster than any human could manage, but taking a wider route.
A gust of warm wind brushed past Charlie. He looked back. The fighter descended to the ground and settled halfway across the root field. A red laser shot from just below its sharp front end and focused on the croatoan guard.
Denver and Layla reached the building first and fiddled with the black pad by the side of a metallic gray door. Hagellan pushed them both out of the way and pressed his hand against it.
Charlie cut across and hugged the edge of the small building.
The croatoan guard moved in the opposite direction and threw its rifle to the ground. The fighter’s laser beam continued to track around its torso and helmet.
Charlie grabbed Hagellan’s stocky shoulder. “What the hell is your pal doing?”
“And why isn’t the fighter firing?” Denver said.
“The scion calculate everything. A single guard running away without a rifle doesn’t carry a threat. A pulse cannon gets an immediate response.”