Rise of the Resistance (War for Orion Trilogy Book Two) (23 page)

The sound of the creature’s feet hitting the
ground was getting louder. He knew that he couldn't outrun the
monster, but the only option he had right now was to try. Anlon
pushed even harder forward and saw a black figure appear in the
orange mist. He continued forward, not worried about what it was.
As he got closer, he saw that it was just standing there and it
appeared to be motioning for him to follow.

Thoughts that it could be a trap entered his
head, but he quickly shook them and followed the figure, feeling
the monster on his heels. The black figure waited for him to get
close and grabbed him by the arm. Anlon eased when he saw it was
trying to lead him through the thick fog. The hand guided him until
all of a sudden it look go and the figure disappeared. His
breathing quickened and he began to pat around on the ground in
front of him. An arm reached out from the wall and yanked him
forward. His body squeezed through an opening and he felt something
slam into the wall just as he made it through.

One of the creature's heads squeezed its way
through, but its body was far too large to follow. Anlon turned
around to face the figure and saw it was a race wearing a hooded
black robe. It was about his height and had a slight bend in the
back.

“Thank you,” Anlon said. “You saved my
life.”

“You're welcome,” the hooded figure
responded. “I can't tell you the last time I've seen another living
race. I couldn't let you be eaten by that thing.”

“You're here alone?”

“Yes,” the hooded figure nodded. “I have
been for the past fifty years.”

Anlon slouched down in disbelief. If this
race had been stranded alone for fifty years, that wasn't good for
him. That meant that there was no way off of this planet.

“Who are you?” Anlon asked.

“My name is Fausto,” he removed his
hood.

He was a dark red themin, with grey marks on
his body. Anlon could tell he was old from the way his skin
wrinkled and the limp he walked with.

“And who are you, unlucky human?” Fausto
asked.

“I'm Anlon,” he answered. “Where did I
land?”

The themin grinned and held out his hands
wide. “The lovely moon, Tartarus.”

“You've got to be kidding me,” he closed his
eyes. “Out of all of the places I could've picked!”

“You chose to land here?” The themin burst
out laughing, grabbing his stomach and bending over.

“I was trying to escape from the
crodillians,” Anlon told him. “Their pod didn't have anything
labeled, so I just picked one of the planets.”

“Unlucky pick,” Fausto said. “But at least
you're alive, and will be for a long time if you listen to me.”

“I want to be alive, but I need to get off
of Tartarus.”

“Not going to happen,” he shook his head. “I
haven't had any luck, and I doubt you will either,” he turned
around. “Follow me.”

Anlon followed Fausto through the small
tunnel which turned into a massive cave. It was lit a light blue by
millions of insects on the ceiling of the cave. There were massive
natural rock bridges leading to several different tunnels. Anlon
followed Fausto over the one in the middle and looked over the
bridge's steep drop. At the bottom, bright and vibrant plants were
thriving. The air felt moist and Anlon searched the cave, finding a
waterfall in the distance.

When they finished crossing the bridge,
Fausto led him down another dark tunnel that wound in a sharp
curve. Upon reaching the end, he saw and opening that revealed
Tartarus and the space above. Right in the middle of the opening
was a crashed ship covered in years of vegetation.

“This is how I arrived,” Fausto said,
walking towards the ship. “Someone attacked me and this is where I
ended up. Pretty lucky, if you ask me. You saw all that stuff back
there in the cave. As long as I stay here, I’m only going to die of
old age.”

“Yeah,” Anlon shook his head. “It was
amazing. Do you live off all that stuff?”

“Sure do,” he walked into the ship. “Don't
even need to leave here, but I do from time to time when I think
it’s safe out there. I never wander too far though.”

“Why?” Anlon asked. “If it's so much safer
in here, why ever leave?”

“I don't know,” he shrugged. “Sometimes I
hope there's a ship waiting, ready to take me off of this planet
and back to civilization. It’s nice here, but I’d love to get to
talk to someone besides myself.”

“You just happened to be out there when I
crashed?”

“Oh no!” Fausto answered. “I saw your pod
falling from the sky. I immediately left to retrieve you, before
something else did. We don’t get many visitors, and usually, those
things out there get to them before I do.”

Anlon looked around the ship. “Well, thanks
again for that.”

“I'm sure you'd do the same,” he replied.
“I'll show you around the cave later. I need to rest right now. My
age is wearing on me.”

“We need to find a way off Tartarus.”

“Good luck,” he chuckled. “You can't do
anything I haven't already tried. My advice to you is to get used
to it here. There's absolutely no hope of getting off this moon.
You're stuck here until you die so you may as well get that through
your head.”

Anlon nodded, determined to find some way
off. It couldn't be
impossible
, there had to be some way
Fausto had overlooked. He had an entire ship here, there was bound
to be something that could get them off. Anlon started walking
around the ship to find something that would save them both.

Moran walked the perimeter of Xiphos with
five men he’d handpicked to set up various bases throughout Orion.
He hadn't known any of them before the crodillian attack, but since
then had gotten to know them very well. None of them had come to
his apartment when rebellion was brewing in the Capital, they’d all
been with their families cherishing what they knew could be their
final moments. Unfortunately, they’d been right and were the only
survivors of each of their families.

Moran had found them gathering groups of
injured survivors while he’d been out doing the same. They weren't
encouraging them to rebel by their side, instead they were making
sure all had food and shelter. It surprised Moran these men who’d
lost their families to the crodillians weren't blind with rage and
urging races to attack. Instead, they understood other families
were in similar situations, and those that weren’t, didn’t need to
experience the pain of losing loved ones. Each had the goal of
setting up permanent refugee camps while obeying the crodillians to
avoid further deaths.

He’d convinced all five of these men to
bring their groups to his apartment complex, assuring them they'd
be safe from any further crodillian attacks. Some had been
reluctant at first, but they’d eventually given in. When they
arrived at his apartment, they hadn't done anything but work to
improve things. They’d organized groups to carry out tasks, and
within a few days' time, it looked more like an undercover military
base than a refugee camp.

No longer were they just making sure their
survivors had food and shelter, they were ensuring the crodillians
couldn't harm them again. Cameras had been placed throughout
Hassental watch the enemy closely, and so far it had proved to be a
good idea, though there weren't nearly enough to keep up with all
movements. They hadn't been planning to attack, but if they needed
to, they’d have an upper hand with the cameras. After several days
of watching the crodillians, one of the men pointed out patterns in
the crodillian activities. They were consistent and became lazier
with each passing day of no resistance. The patrols sent out
dwindled down, leaving multiple vulnerabilities at certain times of
day, every day.

Moran always encouraged them and made it
known how appreciative he was of their selfless efforts. While none
had expressed any thoughts of rebellion, Moran always had the
thought in the back of his mind. Sure, providing for the children,
woman, and elderly was important, but they couldn't stay hidden
forever. He kept the thoughts to himself, but secretly went out on
his own to find additional places of vulnerability. It’d been his
job in the GSOU to scout out threats for weaknesses, and now, it
was his job as General to the same for the most dangerous enemy
he’d ever faced. The biggest difference this time – thousands of
innocent lives were counting on him.

Now it was up to these five extraordinary
men to finish Pyrrhus' job of setting up rebellion forces. They’d
done it once on Gaea, and they’d be able to do it several more
times on other planets. Moran had filled them all in on every
little detail, something the rest of the survivors hadn't had the
privilege of yet. They’d only just finished moving them, but none
were aware of what Moran’s intentions were. There was speculation
throughout the base, but he’d kept quiet about it.

These lucky men now had the mission of
establishing similar bases throughout Orion. He’d let these men
know they were going to rebel from the very outset. Every one of
them had agreed without hesitation. They were fighters and would
obey orders if it meant the survival of Orion, even if it was at
the cost of their lives. Each had been briefed on where bases were
on certain planets and which places should be most populated with
survivors.

He stopped at the gate and faced all five of
the men. “You’re about to change the fate of Orion. Not too long
ago, it was helpless, bleak, but now there’s nothing but hope.
We’re not as few as we originally thought, and soon our numbers
will grow at an exponential rate. It’s because of you and others
like you,” he pointed. “That we stand a chance. The rebellion
forces are necessary for us to beat the crodillians and each of you
are setting them up. I have no doubt that you'll be successful and
that when the time comes, you'll lead us to victory,” he put his
hand on one of the men's shoulders. “Now go out and find rebels.
I'll keep in contact with each of you and you'll know when the time
to strike has come. When that time comes, we'll wipe out the
crodillians once and for all. They don't know what's brewing right
under their noses, and there’s no possible way they'll be ready for
it. We may be fewer in numbers than when they’d arrived, but we now
have our backs against the wall and will do everything we possibly
can to survive.”

The five men smiled at him and pumped their
fists in the air. Moran knew they were ready to go out and find
rebels. They may have lost their families, but now they were going
to bring hope to other families and that was more than enough to
keep them going. They were strong, determined, men and nothing
would keep them from completing their missions. They knew death was
probably, but they’d make sure their deaths meant Orion’s eventual
freedom.

Jahdiel contacted Merikh to fill him in on
recent events. His image appeared on the comlink, and he obviously
didn't want to talk to her. She knew she’d upset him last time, but
she didn't care anymore. Changing now wasn’t something she wanted
to do to please him, even if it did mean she'd most likely end up
like the other races of Orion.

“What is it, Jahdiel?” He asked
expressionless.

“There have been some complications,” she
answered. “It's been resolved, but I thought it best to let you
know.”

“Ah,” Kirill grinned. “So they proved to be
trouble to you. I told you Nimesha is the best at what she
does.”

“I'm not speaking to you,” she shot. “I'm
speaking to Merikh. When I’m ready to talk to you, you’ll
know.”

“
Did
they prove to be trouble?”
Merikh asked her.

“They escaped from the cell,” she told him.
“The guard left the room empty.”

Kirill grinned wider, showing his white
teeth. “I'm sure that was the doing of Nimesha. No doubt she lured
him out somehow. She always was a resourceful one, and one that no
one could take down.”

“It doesn't matter anymore,” she replied.
“We have the Princess and that's all that matters.”

“And the others?” Merikh asked. “You haven't
mentioned what happened to them.”

“They evaded capture,” she let out in a
single, quick, breath. “Three left on the ship and the boy left on
an evac pod.”

“How do four of five prisoners escape a ship
full of armed crodillians?”

“Ask Kirill, it was his assassin that was on
board. She’d obviously scouted out the entire ship before freeing
the Princess. I can’t ensure every crodillian does their job, and
right now, it appears none of them were doing their jobs.”

“If one of his assassins was able to
successfully escape my ship alive, then he wasn't lying when he
said he was a good ally. My men are the best, only an exceptional
race could evade them.”

“She
was
one of my best,” Kirill
straightened up with a gleam of pride in his eyes. “Not all of my
men would be able to do that, but then again, I brought every race
in the Deimos Brotherhood for a specific reason. Some for what
Nimesha just demonstrated, and others for reasons entirely
different. Each of them has their purpose and I make sure to put
their skills to use.”