People say that I was lucky, but luck isn’t something that just happens to you—it’s something you search out and cultivate. And I wouldn’t call stumbling through an Orrkasi camp in the dark, terrified of being seen and unable to run or even walk steadily, getting lucky. Luck would have been finding a transport of some kind or the fleet suddenly showing up to rescue me.
After sneaking out of my cage, I pulled myself up onto my feet using the heavy bars. I had to wait for a wave of dizziness to pass before I could even begin to look for signs of the Orcs on patrol. And without the low-light magnification of the heavy armor helmet, I couldn’t see anything more than a few feet in front of me. The moons overhead were barely crescents, and the entire camp was shrouded in deep gloom. Worse still, the Orcs had learned from their mistake. The watch had been tripled, maybe even quadrupled. The temperature had fallen to the point that I was racked with shivers as I stumbled along. The fluids the Orrkasi had pumped into me helped me recover, but I hadn’t tried to exert myself since being captured. I hadn’t gone very far before I was exhausted. My bad leg feet weaker than ever, and every inch of me hurt. If I could have fallen down and died on the spot I might have, but my anger and need to strike back at the cruel Orrkasi drove me forward.
I had two things working in my favor. The first was that I was moving downhill. If I had needed to climb up the hill, I never would have made it—I was just too weak. The second was that the guards were looking for an attack from outside the camp, not inside. I couldn’t risk touching their strange sleep domes, and I was too stiff to even think about moving around at a crouch the way I had been trained. Instead, I moved slowly between the rows of sleep domes, careful not to make a sound. When I reached the row of transports halfway down the hill, I slumped against one and stood there for several minutes, fighting the temptation to sit down. I knew if I went down, the odds were good that I wouldn’t ever get up again—and if the Orcs caught me alive, they would keep me alive to torture me over and over again. I didn’t want to end up like Master Sergeant Carney. If I could get to the remote detonator, I could destroy their secret weapon. That might bring the Orcs down on my head, but at least I could die fighting instead of stuck in a cage, vulnerable to the cruel whims of my captors.
At the bottom of the hill, my luck ran out. My goal had been to get to the trees by the little creek, where Jordan and I had hidden before infiltrating the Orrkasi camp. I didn’t know if the Orcs had found our hiding place, but if not, there were supplies there that I could use. Unfortunately, there were several troopers standing guard between me and the cover provided by the trees. To get there, I would have to move away from the Orc transport ships and into the open ground. The trees were nearly two hundred meters from the base of the hill, and I couldn’t risk being seen. If I had a weapon, I might have tried to kill the Orcs and get away, but I had no weapons. In fact, I was naked, with nothing more than a short piece of wire in my hand. Killing an Orc was difficult even with modern weapons, and I was certainly in no shape to take them on in hand-to-hand combat.
I waited next to one of their transports for what seemed like a long time, but perhaps that rest played in my favor. There was no way to mark the passage of time, but eventually the sky began to lighten. When it did, the Orcs seemed eager to return to their base. I knew the feeling of standing a long, boring watch, exhausted and cold. I had done my share of guard duty and could relate to the need to get food and rest after a long night of staring into the darkness. The Orcs didn’t wait to be relieved. Once the sky overhead shifted from black to purple and the stars began to disappear, they left their post and shuffled up the hill.
It didn’t take much subterfuge to keep them from seeing me. It was still dark out and very gloomy around the big transports. I noticed that the ships weren’t standing open the way they had before. Perhaps if they had been locked up, we wouldn’t have been able to rescue the hostages. As I held my breath and waited for the Orcs to move past my hiding place, I wondered if Jordan and the hostages had survived. They certainly hadn’t been caught and returned to the camp. If the Orrkasi found them, they must have slaughtered them, but I couldn’t afford to think about that. Despair was already too much of a temptation. All I wanted to do was lie down and close my eyes. I didn’t care if I lived or died—and yet I didn’t want to be caught. I didn’t want to go back to the building to be cut up by the Orcs.
I reached up and felt my face where my eye patch had been. The skin there was rough with dried blood. The air was cold in the empty eye socket. The Orcs had humiliated me and left me exposed. I had to keep going, to strike a blow they wouldn’t forget. Once the Orcs had passed by, I crept out of hiding and moved as rapidly as my broken body would allow me. It was painful, both physically and mentally. I forced myself not to look back. The sky was turning from purple to gray, and I was moving so slowly. Speed is the warrior’s greatest asset, and I had none of it. Looking back wouldn’t change that. I knew the Orrkasi camp was rousing, and if they saw me I would be captured or killed. So I plunged on. I could see the trees; they were like shadows as the day began to dawn in earnest. It seemed to take me an eternity to reach them. When I finally did, I was barely able to breathe. My lungs felt like they were on fire, my tongue felt swollen, and there was a stabbing pain in my side. But I was alive.
I turned, leaned on a tree, and looked back at the camp. They hadn’t seen me or even noticed that I was missing yet. In the gray light of predawn, I stumbled back into the trees and moved along the creek until I found the bushes covered by the parachute. It was still there, undisturbed. I saw my backpack and Jordan’s too. My Gnashii was protruding slightly from the front, and my reliable carbon-fiber spear was sticking out the back. I held onto a tree and lowered myself to the ground. The soft grass felt like heaven on my broken body. I pulled my water bottle from my backpack and tilted it to my swollen lips. The Orcs had given me barely enough water to stave off dehydration, and the warm water from my supplies tasted sweet as it washed over my swollen tongue and down my parched throat. It also gave me a tiny burst of energy. I used it to drag the backpacks under the parachute just as the first bright beams of sunlight hit the tops of the trees.
I dug into my pack and pulled out two protein bars. I ripped off their wrappers and devoured them. Afterward I drank all the water left in my bottle. I had a filter in my pack and would get more water from the creek later, but until then, I still had Jordan’s water bottle and more than enough food. Sleep pulled at my eyes, but I forced myself to check on the camp through the Gnashii’s powerful scope. There was some activity, but not much. I guessed that a single missing prisoner wasn’t all that obvious. Most of the Orcs paid me no attention when I had been trapped in the cage. They might not realize I was gone until someone sent for me. That meant—for the time being, at least—I was safe. I had gotten lucky, and I had a chance to survive. That’s more than I could have hoped for. I held the sniper rifle like it was a dear friend and fell asleep, nestled in the bushes and covered by the camouflaging parachute.
I didn’t dream; I don’t even think I moved. The noise of ships lifting off woke me up. By that point, the sun was high overhead. I was hot, but the parachute was more cover than I’d had in the cages. It cast a gentle shade, and the air down in the valley near the creek seemed cooler, but it was still hot out. I rubbed my eyes and took a long drink from Jordan’s water bottle. Then I turned my attention to the Orrkasi camp. The Orcs were busy; I could see them barking and growling at one another. It didn’t seem all that different from their normal routines, except for the ships that were patrolling the area around the camp. They were looking for me—for a prisoner running across the open plain.
Fear swept my fatigue away. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to run to. If I left the trees, I would be exposed. Instead, I searched through my supplies. I had a survival blanket and a first aid kit in my bag, but no clothing. The survival blanket was made of reflective mylar and would be worthless as a garment. Jordan had wadded up the tattered remains of her uniform and tucked it deep into the backpack. It was the same type of garment worn by naval personnel on duty on a starship: a lightweight, navy blue jumpsuit. To get it on, I had to cut off the pants at the knee and the sleeves at the shoulder. I pulled it on and could only get the zipper halfway up. The outfit was tight, but the fabric was stretchy enough that it wasn’t uncomfortable. Most importantly, I wasn’t naked anymore. I watched the Orrkasi camp the rest of the day. They could have found me if they had only sent a squad to patrol the trees, but they didn’t bother. Eventually, the ships returned, the watch was set, and when night fell, the camp grew quiet again.
Once I was certain that it was dark enough, I crawled back to the creek and refilled both water bottles. The water was cooler and refreshing. I even washed some of the dried blood from my face. I couldn’t see myself, but I could feel the beard that had grown in since crashing on Leonis B. I used gauze to cover my missing eye. Perhaps it was vanity to cover the empty socket. I knew the skin there was puckered, dark, and horrific to look at; there had been plenty of time to study my scarred face after the disaster on Luyten C. I was glad when the doctors covered the socket with medical-grade plastic and used a bonding agent to adhere it to my flesh. Despite all I had endured at the hands of the Orcs, I still didn’t want people to see the horror I had become. I wrapped the gauze around my head, covering my eye and holding back the shaggy growth of hair that had sprung up on my head over the past few weeks.
The next priority was finding the clump of bushes Jordan and I had hidden in before moving to the trees at the bottom of the hill. I knew roughly where they were and that they were at least three kilometers from my camp, but I couldn’t just set off in the darkness and hope I found it. Instead, I popped the digital scope from Jordan’s sniper rifle, which she had left behind the same as I had my own. I also took the battery from her rifle. There were a few replacements among our supplies, but not many, and once they were spent it would take hours to recharge them. I had two solar charging devices among the supplies, along with fire starter, a roll of paracord, and a tarp. Earlier in the day, I had repacked everything into the two backpacks and used the straps of one to fasten it to the other.
I put on the backpacks and used a section of the paracord to make a sling for the Gnashii sniper rifle. Jordan’s gun wouldn’t help me so I would leave it behind, but I untied the parachute and tucked it into one of the backpacks. Finally, with the spear as a makeshift walking stick, I was ready to set out for the shrubs where I hoped to find the remote detonator that I could use to blow up the Orrkasi cannon. But first I needed to identify where I was going.
The digital scope had a soft rubber cup that surrounded the display. I pressed the cup to my eye before turning the scope on. Soon I could see between the trees and into the Orrkasi camp. I saw six groups of guards staring out into the darkness. I didn’t think they could see much, but I didn’t know for certain. The safest bet was to give the guards a wide berth. Fortunately, there were only two clumps of bushes within sight of my hiding place among the trees. I powered off the scope before removing it from my eye, and only then did I set out for my destination.
Speed is a warrior’s greatest asset, but stealth is also valuable, and it took patience to move quietly with enemy warriors nearby. I circled out away from the camp and then angled back around to the clumps of bushes. It doubled the distance, and by the time I reached the shrubs, I was exhausted. My body needed more time to regain its strength, but time wasn’t my ally. I needed to get to the remote detonator with enough of the night left to get as far away from the Orrkasi as possible before the sun rose and I was forced to hide again. But finding something in the dark isn’t easy. I couldn’t risk using light of any kind. The Orcs couldn’t see me in the darkness, but if I used a light, it would show up like a signal flare in the night.
The search was frustrating. I had to feel around in the dirt with my hands, but that didn’t help. Despair began to needle its way into my mind. Eventually I got down on my stomach and pressed the scope to my eye in hopes of spotting the remote, but I was too close to the shrubs and everything was just a green blur. After an hour, I had to face the reality that the detonator wasn’t there. I looked across at the hill a few kilometers away and felt certain that I was at the right clump of bushes. Still, I refused to give up. The odds seemed to be growing that I had lost the detonator somewhere else. The journey to the Orrkasi camp had taken four days, and I could have lost the detonator anywhere along our route. But before I gave up, I decided to search the other clump of bushes.
I took my time just getting to the bushes. They were closer to the Orcs, but not by much. Still, I felt exposed. Part of me wanted to move on before I made a mistake and the Orcs caught me. But whenever I thought about running, my next thought was always of Master Sergeant Carney and the mental image of his pale body crammed into a cage and marked with burns and blood-encrusted lacerations. That memory drove me forward and banished any thoughts of escape. I didn’t want to escape; I wanted to punish the Orrkasi. I wanted them to know fear and pain the way Phil Carney had. Maybe that was more than I could accomplish, but it was enough to make me stay the course.
When I reached the second clump of bushes, I repeated the process of feeling around on the ground. For a while there was nothing but dirt, roots, and rocks. I was about to give up when my fingers touched something smooth. It was small—not as large as a pistol grip, but similar. Hope flooded through me, and I picked the object up. I felt it with both hands, brushing away the dirt and grit that had settled onto it. There wasn’t enough light to see it clearly, but I knew what it was: the remote detonator. It had a red thumb plunger to ignite the explosives, and on one side was a round knob that would power the device on and change the frequency. I turned the knob, but nothing happened. The detonator had a small LCD screen on the side that showed the frequency. It should have lit up in red, but instead it remained dark.
“Damn!” I whispered, realizing that the battery in the detonator must have died.
Rage erupted in me, a white hot blaze of fury. Why did everything have to be so difficult? I wanted to hit the Orrkasi when they least expected it and get cleanly away. But instead, I had been foiled by the detonator’s faulty battery.
It’s difficult to think clearly when you’re angry. I was tired and in pain, but mostly I was furious that things weren’t working out. After searching frantically in the dark for hours to find the detonator, I couldn’t believe it wouldn’t work. It felt like there was some cosmic force working against me. But eventually I calmed down. I had no idea how much time had passed since the sun went down. I had waited a long time to begin my search, and several hours had passed since I left the trees by the creek, but I was hopeful that a few hours of darkness remained. Going back seemed wrong, but I knew that it was the smart move. I needed time to recharge the detonator, and whether I admitted it or not, I needed time to rest. The creek had water, and I needed a lot of water to really hydrate my body. Without the inner liner of the heavy armor suit to regulate my body temperature, I lost of lot of water sweating throughout the day. If I could get back to the river before daybreak, I would have the best chance of doing real damage to the Orcs while also giving myself the best odds of escaping.
Normally, TAC operations function on a short timetable, but I knew the fleet wouldn’t be arriving in the system soon. I had lost track of the days after being captured, but at the earliest, the fleet wouldn’t arrive for weeks. I could go back, take my time, and deliver a blow that the Orcs wouldn’t recover from. Even if they discovered me and killed me, I should have the time to blow up their secret weapon before I died. I just needed a little more time to recharge the detonator, and the Orcs wouldn’t know what hit them.
I repeated my long, arching trek back to the trees at the bottom of the hill where the Orrkasi had made their base of operations. I moved slowly, partly because I was hurting and tired, but also to keep from attracting attention. The guards had been watching the tree line, I reminded myself. Perhaps they couldn’t see well in the darkness, but I had to behave as if they could see in the dark and hear me breathing from a kilometer away.
By the time I got back to the trees, I could feel dawn approaching. I found my previous hiding place, retied the parachute, and got nestled into place. It was too risky to use the solar sheets that powered the recharge devices, but luckily they had plenty of juice stored to recharge the detonator. I connected the detonator’s little battery and then studied the camp. Half an hour later, the sun rose. I drank as much water as I could stand, ate some dry rations, and then forced myself to sleep. The Orrkasi sent out patrols again, but I was a ghost. They were a large force, and there was no enemy to see. I knew that factor would play in my favor. Without the evidence of danger, a person grew complacent. It was true that Jordan and I had gotten into their camp and stolen a transport after rescuing the hostages they held, but that was easy to chalk up to light security. They had rectified that issue, and while I had managed to escape, I was just one person—just a crippled human. What threat could I pose?
When I woke up again, it was late in the afternoon. I felt almost giddy, like a child waking up on Christmas morning. I wanted to see the Orrkasi weapon destroyed, but I didn’t want to rush things. The perfect time would be just after dark, so I waited. Time seemed to stand still. I laid out the battery packs for the Gnashii sniper rifle. If the Orcs came for me, I would be ready for them. I ate another protein bar and drank more water. I even managed to do some stretches on my bad leg while staying hidden under the parachute, and eventually the sun set.
Still I forced myself to wait. I remembered waiting for fireworks back on Earth. Just like those instances, the light seemed to linger in the sky for what seemed like ages. I wanted the Orrkasi to have just fallen asleep. I wanted them to feel relaxed and safe so that the sudden destruction of their super-weapon would shake their confidence. I wanted them to know fear and desperation.
When dark at last settled in, I checked the detonator; it was fully charged and had no trouble powering on. I set the frequency and held the little device up with my thumb hovering over the red plunger on top.
“This is for Master Sergeant Phil Carney, you bastards!” I said, not even trying to be quiet.
My thumb pressed down on the plunger, sending the signal and causing the device to vibrate ever so slightly in my hand. Instantly, the sky burst into flames.