The Fall of Wakiza

The dim sunlight broke through the atmosphere of Wakiza as the artificial ozone worked to enhance the scant power from it, converting it to heat and sunlight to illuminate the planetoid. Wakiza was so far from the nearest sun that they weren't even within the legal boundaries of the Niiz K system, so the villagers cherished every single ray of sunshine they got. The larger the population grew, the more they needed to conserve the little solar power they got, gradually moving them to seek newer and more sustainable energy sources.

They initially tried reaching out to Niiz K for help, who ignored them completely. Next they sent emissaries to Bastion, their nearest neighbor, who gladly sent a small team of scientists to observe and see how to improve conditions on Wakiza. The results were immediate. The Bastion team was able to enhance conservation of resources without loss of power, but it still would not be enough to provide a long term solution.

One of the men, while studying the composition of the soil, stumbled upon the answer. At first he didn't believe it was possible, but after bringing the rest of his team to do further tests and confirm his findings, they were satisfied that it was true. The core of Wakiza contained an incredible concentration of uranium. The core itself was functioning as a gigantic nuclear reactor, providing an almost limitless supply of raw energy. It only needed to be tapped.

The villagers were overjoyed, but lacked the technology to make it happen. They had comfortable living conditions, but nothing in the way of excess. They asked the Bastion scientists if it would be possible for them to design and construct a way to access the power of the core, and they said it would be, but to do so would be extremely expensive. Lacking the money for it, the leaders of Wakiza sent the scientists home and assembled the upper echelon of society together for a meeting.

“We have a difficult conundrum facing us,” began Christoph Parks, captain of Wakiza. “We need that power supply. Not just to operate the machinery in our homes, but to continue powering the ecosystem keeping us alive. Unfortunately we lack the resources to make it ourselves, or even to pay someone else for it. The way I see it, we have two options.

First, we can give up all personal use of technology, devoting all the power we get from the sun to charge the artificial systems keeping us alive. We all commit to lives without power or convenience. We won't die, but life will become more difficult for sure, especially as we adjust. Our second option is to contact Niiz K again.”

This suggestion met with murmurs from the gathered crowd. Captain Parks continued.

“Hear me out. They haven't helped us before because we had nothing to offer. Now we do. If our core is half as powerful as the Bastion team believed, it'll provide far more energy than we're capable of using. Why not offer them a trade? They build the factory or whatever is needed to harness that power, and in exchange we let them share it. We'll probably only use a fraction of what is produced. They can have the rest.”

Whispers scattered through the audience as people discussed this with one another. Finally Saul Kohen, one of the oldest and most respected men there, stood and offered a compromise.

“Let's ask them first. See what their terms are. If they're reasonable and willing, we go with that plan. If they are not, we simplify our lives and make the best of what we have.”

This proposal met with nods of agreement. The issue was settled.

Less than a week later, two officials from Niiz K arrived at Wakiza. Greta von Croesus, head of the Distribution Division, and her new secretary Oskar Pavelic. They had already received the reports of the core from the Bastion team and were coming to personally verify the findings. Nobody was going to get the CEO to sign off on this unless someone he trusted could vouch for it. Greta and Oskar spent three days, confirming and reconfirming, double and triple checking. Finally satisfied, they returned to Niiz K space to present their findings to the Board of Directors.

“We have to accept this offer,” stated Greta. “Wakiza could easily power entire planets. Imagine the productivity of our factories. I feel I can say with confidence our profits would double within a few years. Well worth of the cost of developing a factory and digging into the core. It's a planetoid. It's small.”

“I understand your viewpoint on this,” said the CEO as he leaned forward on the table, “but I dislike the idea of our entire power supply being dependent on another world and their cooperation. This would give them incredible power over us.”

The room fell silent as the directors considered this.

“A thought,” said one of the gathered directors as he raised his hand. “Why not tell them we're not actually benefiting that much from it? Downplay the influence this will have on us. Maybe tell them it's only powering a city, or a single factory, but that fiscally it's still a slight enough improvement to be worthwhile for us?”

“I can't imagine they'd fall for that,” countered Greta. “They all know exactly how powerful their core is.”

“Then exaggerate how much power our factories take.”

The room fell silent again. No one had further points to make. Now it was up to the CEO to make the call.

“Everyone except Greta and Oskar, kindly leave the room. I'll need you all to have plausible deniability.”

Most of those assembled stood and shuffled out the door, half concerned, half pleased they would not be involved in whatever was coming next.

“And you,” the CEO called to the last man exiting, “get me Legal on the phone.”

###

Twenty years passed, and a file labeled “Wakiza Fail Safe” gathered dust in the most heavily secured room in Niiz K. A room containing all the information and nasty secrets that could bring Niiz K to its knees. Not even the President had access to the room, only the CEO and one person chosen by him. Once the Wakiza Fail Safe had been added, the CEO transferred that privilege away from his personal assistant to Oskar Pavelic. As the two decades passed, Greta retired and Oskar became head of the Distribution Division. The CEO died under mysterious circumstances and a new CEO named Heinrich Gates immediately ascended the ranks into that position, despite being the youngest member of the Board of Directors.

Heinrich, being just 26 at the time, had spent practically his entire life knowing of and benefiting from the Wakiza power station. He also knew that in that time period, the population of Wakiza was growing and consuming more power. It had no effect on Niiz K's supply, but the people were getting gluttonous. Demanding. Asking for upgrades and repairs as soon as they were available. They kept offering fewer locals to man the power station, depending on Niiz K instead to provide the staff. Heinrich was getting worried.

Shortly after his appointment to the position of CEO, he called up Oskar Pavelic and arranged a trip into the heavily guarded room of secrets. If he was going to run this company, he needed to know everything there was to know. Oskar reluctantly agreed, never having actually visited the room before. But Heinrich wasn't fazed by anything they found. Most of it was stuff he assumed already, and merely had his suspicions confirmed. Only two things really caught his attention.

The first was a folder named Project Circum. As Heinrich read through it, his eyes widened slightly. Oskar took note of his surprise. As this was a project he was familiar with, he decided to ease Gates' concern.

“It is a real project and it is progressing. It shows definite promise.”

Heinrich shook his head. “That's not my worry. Is this all the security the project has? This is an extraordinary project, the defense budget for it needs to be much higher.”

“Oh, um, sure. What did you have in mind?”

“Not sure. Defense is not my specialty. Tell you what,” he said, lowering the papers from view, “find the craziest most unhinged person you know. Give them however much money they need. Have them design an impenetrable defense system.”

“I … suppose I could arrange that. We do have a prisoner at the moment named Mara Rubik. She gave us a lot of trouble. It took us two squads to track her down and apprehend her.”

“Excellent. Buy her loyalty. Give her this.”

“As you desire.”

The second thing that took Heinrich by surprise was the folder named “Wakiza Fail Safe.” Oskar knew this file, and seeing Heinrich gravitate towards it gave him a pit in his stomach.

“Wakiza?” Gates asked, lifting the folder. “What's the fail safe about?”

Oskar groaned, and merely gestured towards the folder to indicate Heinrich should read it for himself. Gates opened it and read. Oskar expected terror in his eyes, and was alarmed to instead see a grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, this is good,” Heinrich whispered. “This is really good.”

###

Three more years passed, and tensions increased between Niiz K and Wakiza. Rumors began spreading among the citizens of the planetoid that Niiz K was benefiting more than they would admit. As Niiz K got richer, Wakiza got poorer, the population grew, and life became harder. Finally a council was called and they arrived at a unanimous decision. They would demand financial recompense from Niiz K or else they would take over the station, expel the employees, and cut off the power supply, keeping it all for themselves. United in this thought, they sent a team of representatives to present their ultimatum to the Board of Directors.

“No,” came the immediate answer.

“What do you mean no?” they demanded.

Heinrich leaned back in his seat and smiled. “No. It means no. We continue taking energy from the station, you continue taking energy from the station, and that's all there is to it. Life carries on as it always has.”

“I don't think you understand your position,” said their chief delegate as she rose from her chair. “It is our planetoid. Your team is on the planet by our permission. If we revoke that, we have the legal right to expel you and your entire presence.”

Heinrich's smile grew even larger. “Oh, a legal right, have you? I am *so* happy you said that.” He looked to his left and called out “Please bring in our attorneys.”

A team of men in grossly expensive suits entered and took their seats, except for one who remained standing. He looked to be in his 60s with wispy hair, but the coldest and most ruthless glare the Wakiza representatives had ever seen.

“Perhaps you're familiar with our chief legal counsel,” continued Heinrich, “colloquially known as The Dagger. I do believe he has some information for you.”

The Dagger, still standing, dropped an incomprehensible pile of papers on the table in front of the Wakiza group.

“In the Attrition Act of 637,” he began, “the boundaries of our solar systems were clearly laid out for the express purpose of preventing territorial disputes between the nations and to ensure the unsteady peace remained as undisturbed as possible. It made sure ownership of any celestial bodies and other orbital objects were under the absolute ownership of whichever nation claimed the system first, and also guaranteed that no nation could lay claim to multiple systems until sufficient time had passed to allow everyone to take what was needed for their populations. The number unanimously agreed upon was 10 billion kilometers outward from the central sun in any direction.”

The delegates from Wakiza tried hard to keep up as the Dagger rambled through, tossing more papers in front of them to verify his statements.

“Which brings us to our situation. The exact distance from the Niiz K sun to the core of Wakiza is an uncanny 10 billion kilometers precisely. Which means that half the planetoid is within our system, and the other half is not. Given that rotation is a factor, it means that the power station which we built and have single-handedly managed, maintained, and upgraded spends half the day in our system and half the day in unclaimed space.”

One of the delegates prepared to speak up before he was cut off by the Dagger.

“As this means we have legal right to the factory for half the day, you may assume that it means you have the legal right to it for the other half, but that is not in fact true. The Attrition Act of 637 *also* makes the fact explicit that for legal ownership of a celestial body to be conferred onto any person or persons, the proper paperwork must be filed with the relevant authorities of the nearest sovereign state and an objective third party. The only exception to this rule is in the case of refugees, but to legally receive refugee status you must show evidence of being in transit and seeking an acceptable home *or* seeking asylum with an existing sovereign state. As Wakiza has been inhabited for well over 30 years with no attempt made at any of these things, and in fact extensive evidence to the contrary, we are forced to remove you from consideration for refugee status. Which leaves us with one very simple question if you wish to have any legal representation in this matter.”

The delegates quivered in their seats with apprehension, as the Dagger leaned in close and glared.

“The nearest sovereign state is Niiz K. Have you filed paperwork with it and an objective third party to receive ownership of Wakiza?”

The Wakiza representatives stared at one another. All this time they had simply assumed that by living there they owned it. In turns they tried opening their mouths to speak, but had no words.

“Here are the necessary forms if you like,” the Dagger said as he dropped the final three sheets of paper in front of them. “I recommend you do so quickly, as we now have the legal right to bar you from trespassing on our property.” He turned and began walking out the room. Before exiting he stopped, turned back to them, and said “And thank you so much for bringing this to our attention.”

Heinrich applauded the Dagger as he left. “What a show. Oh, and that thing he said before about how we have legal right to remove trespassers? Consider that legal right exercised. From this moment on you may not step foot on any portion of Wakiza that we own.”

“What does that mean?” asked the woman from Wakiza who had started the conversation. “He said with the rotation, the land owned by you is constantly changing.”

“Well then,” he replied, a gloating smile plastered all over him, “guess you'll have to run circles around the planet to keep off of it.”

###

When the news was reported to the inhabitants of Wakiza, the protests were immediate. No one believed Niiz K genuinely wanted them to run literal circles around their own world just to keep off. It was clearly a sick power play on Heinrich's part. Yet, there was nothing they could do about it. They didn't have the law on their side. But neither, one of them soon discovered, did Niiz K.

“I've been reading up on this Attrition Act of 637 that the Dagger kept using. Everything he said was correct, but look at this as well. They make clear that, while a sovereign nation has the right to evict trespassers and squatters, if there is even an implied invitation to remain in someone's territory, those people cannot be removed and made into refugees unless the owner of the area makes efforts to relocate them.”

The crowds didn't see much hope in that.

“Don't you see?” he continued. “They cooperated with us building the power station. That was clearly an invitation to remain in the territory. Now they don't have the legal right to remove that invitation unless they first take steps to find an alternative for us.”

This revelation gave hope to the populace. The same three representatives gathered again to inform the legal counsel of Niiz K about what they'd found. The response was clear and direct.

“Have fun finding someone willing to represent you in court,” and ended the call.

With that minor provocation, Niiz K began clamping down on their perceived rights. As soon as the inhabited parts of the planetoid rotated into Niiz K space, troops began tearing down homes, assaulting citizens, and destroying crops. As these regions exited Niiz K space, the troops would withdraw and circle back around for the next day. The power station would be shut down as well so they could ensure they benefited in no way from resources outside their allotted zone.

“Something needs to change,” said one of the Wakiza leaders as time dragged on. They simply couldn't keep up. No matter how hard they tried, the rotation was too fast. Day in and day out they would get attacked by the Niiz K troops, they had no food, and what few supplies they had were constantly dwindling. They had taken to hiding in jungles or caves wherever they could, just to find a few moments respite.

Finally a group of mechanical engineers banded together with a plan. They would find one of the ships that had been ruined by Niiz K, repair it, and send people to seek help. Anyone. With haste, a ship was found and repaired. A small crew was assembled and sent out.

They were far from the interstellar highway. Travel out there was dangerous and slow. The crew of four knew what they were risking. They knew odds were unlikely that they'd make it anywhere. They hoped that the engineers could find more ships to repair and send out to increase the odds of someone making it.

After five days adrift through space, they were happened upon by a Shandüchan patrol. They tried explaining their situation, but the soldiers took it as the ravings of madmen who had nearly died in open space. Not wanting to be babysitters to a group of lunatic backwards space hoppers, the patrol ship entered the highway and dropped them off in Rumanian space, reasoning that most interstellar traffic passed through there, so surely someone would show up who could help them.

In Rumania the group of men were not well received. They were constantly unchill, always in a rush, always exasperating everyone with their sob stories. People did their best to keep their distance, for fear of having their buzz harshed.

One person heard their story and was interested. Her name was Vanessa Cuarón.

###

After having spent the last several days being shot at, exploded at, chained up, shot at some more, and finally interrogated by Niiz K police, Vanessa was long overdue for a vacation. Her family was probably expecting her back in Tsukonia by now, but a beach day to clear her head became a beach week, and then three. In that time she'd learned the art of rum making with basic ingredients, had at least seven marriage proposals, and been introduced to a drink called fiafia, an alcohol invented by Rumanians that they only shared with the people they especially liked.

She was enjoying every moment of her trip there until she encountered the group from Wakiza and heard their story

“Why don't you just leave?” she asked as they were all seated together at an outdoor bar along the beach. Everyone knew that bars in Rumania were just for the people that no one liked enough to share their own supplies with. “Why not just find another place to live?”

“That's what we tried 30 years ago when we went there,” answered another. “The known galaxy is full. Each system packed to the brim, and every time expeditions go out to find more, all we hear is reports of fatalities and lost crews. Where are we supposed to go?”

“I mean, would it hurt to look?”

The man sighed and rubbed his temples. “Let me ask you this. Have you ever tried? Did you get your own home or inherit it from your family?”

She thought about this. She did receive her home from her family.

“Everyone in the galaxy is just grandfathered in,” he continued. “When they run out of space they build up the existing towers to fit more people. By time they're done all with construction the spaces are booked and people move in. Look at us. We had one functioning ship and it barely got us off our world. There are hundreds more people we left behind. We have no papers, no citizenship, no money. As soon as we step off that rock, we're homeless. We can't even be taken in as refugees because Niiz K will never admit to wrongdoing. If we show up anywhere and claim they cast us out, they'll deny it, and how can we prove it?”

Vanessa knew this as well. That was precisely in their nature. Even though Niiz K would want them gone, they also wouldn't want them getting away and spreading bad press. Finally she spoke up again.

“So what do you intend to do?”

“The only thing we can think of is find a way to stay. But I can't imagine there would be a lawyer willing to back us up.”

“There's only way to deal with Niiz K,” she replied.

“And how's that?”

“Hit them where it hurts. Make it more expensive for them to get rid of you then for them to let you remain.”

“We coexisted before. You mean find that balance again?”

“Possible, but you won't be able to right away. You've shown them a way to take 100% profit from your world. They'll never be willing to go back down to 95% unless you show them that's the best option.”

“What exactly are you recommending?”

“Fight back. Start with your factory. Shut it down. That'll send a clear message. Follow it up by letting them know you're willing to reach an agreement. Then plan for them to ignore that message, and prepare for war.”

“We can't possibly fight back against Niiz K physically.”

“No you can't, but if you can hold them off long enough that they see a financial toll they'll be willing to talk.”

“Even then … we're not soldiers.”

“Neither am I. But I know a few.”

###

Bernard Roe sat at the piano in his home on Alssyria. It had been a long dull day at work, and after all the excitement he'd had recently, that was precisely what he wanted. Dull and uneventful. As far as he could tell, there was nothing exciting planned for anytime soon.

His com device rang out. He answered.

“Docky!” shouted the voice on the other end.

“Dear heavens no,” he thought. “If it's Vanessa there's no way this is going to be good.”

###

John Smith was getting punched from all sides. He was getting slow. A few years ago it would've been nothing for him to take on five tough guys at once, but now things were getting difficult. The stab wound in his leg that started this fight wasn't helping either. If his gang were here with him as well these thugs would've never tried starting anything, but unfortunately their last escapade had left relations in the group a little sour. He'd definitely have to try resolving some of those issues once he got out of this. If he did. The knives these guys were wielding definitely had something of a discouraging effect on his attitude.

As he began falling to the floor, he heard new voices. The flurry of sound and motion following thereafter made everything much too difficult to follow, until it all came to a standstill. He held up his hand to block out the ceiling lights and let his eyes focus.

“Not you two...” he muttered. Standing over him was Vanessa and Bernard, who had very helpfully removed the five attackers from his presence.

“Looks like you owe us one,” Vanessa said, dusting her jacket off. “And surprise surprise, we know exactly how you can pay us back.”

“Honestly, how convenient for us he was getting the tar beaten out of him,” added Bernard. “I couldn't imagine how we were going to convince him to help us otherwise.”

They dragged John Smith off to a nearby ship and brought him inside. It was old but well taken care of, with an abundance of scars showing how well used it had been. He was brought into the small med bay and Bernard set about patching him up while Vanessa filled him in on the plan.

“You guys can't be serious,” he replied once the summary was done. “Three of us taking on Niiz K when their biggest energy source is on the line? They won't take losing as an answer.”

“Nonsense,” Vanessa answered back. “You're completely wrong about that. There's four of us.”

“Uh huh. But everything else was correct?”

“Yep.”

“Great,” he sighed ruefully. “Who's the fourth?”

“The pilot,” added Bernard, still patching up some of the more minor cuts. “Former Shandüchan military turned mercenary. Abrim Minkosis.”

“I still think you're crazy. Four of us and an aging ship? You need more help.”

“Unfortunately we've tried everyone we can think of. Everyone is either too scared or lacks the morality to care that a small nation is going to get wiped out for profit's sake.”

“Well there's your problem. You've been seeking skilled fighters who are expensive or moral people with a backbone. No wonder you can't find anyone. You're looking for the wrong type.”

“Tell us then, who should we be looking for?”

“Whoever comes to your mind when I say this: Call the biggest idiots you know.”

###

Anthony Spades sauntered up and down the main boulevard through Punta Cana, commonly regarded as the cultural and political center of Rumania. He was whistling out to every woman who passed, each in turn looking at him in disgust, some smacking him across the face. He was unfazed. He had only been here looking for a woman for the last two months. Eventually he would find one who wasn't immune to his charms.

As he walked, his com device started buzzing. He excitedly answered.

“Wassup homes?” he asked.

There was silence on the other end, followed by a long low groan. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he heard a voice on the other end asking someone else.

“Worst case scenario, he's no help,” an older male voice answered her. “Best case scenario, he dies. Ask him.”

The female voice on the other end sighed and spoke back into the com device. “Hello Spades. This is Vanessa.”

“Vanessa Smithson?”

“No.”

“Vanessa Marbles?”

“No.”

“Vanessa Lollobrigida?

“No!”

“Vanessa Cuthb-”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut! Up! This is Vanessa Cuarón and I have something I need to ask you!”

He laughed a triumphant laugh. He knew she would come crawling back to him one of these days. “Ah Vanessa, *mee her moh so um more.”* He paused to allow his beautiful words to sink in. “I've learned your language so I can adequately express my love for you.”

“I speak English dipstick. Also, that was awful.”

“Awfully *great* I think you mean.”

She sighed again. “Look. Spades. I'm not asking you on a date. There's a very important mission I'm trying to hire you for.”

“Will you be on the mission too?”

“Yes.”

“I'm in. Sounds like,” he said, clicking his tongue, “*a date*.”

His com device had a dial tone. He shook it to make it work. It didn't work. After a minute the com device rang again, and this time a man's voice came through.

“Hi, I'm Abrim Minkosis. Please give me your coordinates so we can come pick you up for the mission.”

“What happened to *mee her moh so*?”

“I think she's, uh ...” he paused as he craned his head around to look. “Look like she's dry heaving.”

They quickly located Spades and landed nearby. Vanessa agreed to exit the ship solely on the condition that the three other guys accompany her. Not for her protection. For Spades'. As they approached and took turns introducing themselves and explaining the mission to him, Bernard felt a poke on his back. He spun his head around and saw a diminutive girl standing behind him holding out her finger.

“Tag,” she whispered and sped away.

“Wha-” he began, and then stopped. Was that...?

“Problem Docky?” Vanessa asked, desperate to stop talking with Anthony Spades.

“I think that was Ty.”

“Who?”

“A girl I know. I worked with her. Hang on a minute!” he shouted as he ran off after her.

“What a *fun* group you have!” Spades exclaimed.

Bernard sped through the crowds, barely keeping Ty in his field of vision. She kept looking back, spotting him, and changing course. She was unpredictable and fast, but Bernard was more persistent. A year ago he never could've kept up with her, but now he had an advantage. He saw her dart into an unusually crowded area, so instead of following her, he examined what would be the most logical exit. He found it, and climbed a tree nearby. Then he waited. As she cautiously exited the crowd, she looked around, content that she'd evaded him. He, in turn, leapt out of the tree and knocked her to the ground.

“Tag! You're it! Good to see you again, kid.”

She screamed in his face and clawed at him until he backed away. She stood up and looked him in the eye, then smiled.

“Long time no see,” she finally said. “What brings you around here?”

“Very long story. How about you.”

“Very long story.”

“Looking to get away by chance?”

“That depends on what is involved.”

“I have a job I could offer.”

“Yuck. Why would I want to leave a paradise resort to go work?”

“Because it involves crippling Niiz K and blowing some stuff up.”

Her eyes lit up and she tried to suppress the smile growing on her face. “I could perhaps be persuaded.”

###

The ship gradually made its way through space. To travel outside the highway was famously treacherous, but Abrim had spent enough time on covert missions that he knew his way around open space and could pilot these regions almost without effort.

As they approached Wakiza, the sun was silhouetted behind it, casting rays all around the little world.

“Beautiful,” whispered Vanessa.

“Bodacious,” added Anthony Spades.

“Incredible,” said Abrim.

“Not terrible, I guess,” muttered Ty.

“Extraordinary,” replied Bernard.

“What a gem,” said John.

“Whoa, where *are* we?” exclaimed Willie.

Everybody froze. John and Abrim quickly drew their weapons and pointed them straight at the seventh person in the room.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Abrim commanded.

Willie stretched and yawned. “I needed a nap. I was walking along the beach and saw a ship with an open door. I assumed there must be beds inside and I was right. What a delightful little vehicle you have here!”

Abrim was furious at the intruder but also at himself. The two who had hired him were so casual that he allowed it to influence him and he lowered his guard, leaving the ship open when they landed at Rumania. Never again.

“So, uh, whatcha all doing here?” Willie asked.

“First off,” Abrim answered angrily, “tell us who you are.”

“Willie Madsen. Wily Willie they call me. Well, I suppose 'they' is a vague term. A few friends called me that once. I don't know why, I never felt particularly wily. I wonder if maybe it was just an attempt on their part to...”

Abrim cut him off. “I don't care. But it looks like you're stuck with us now. We're descending onto Wakiza, and it's a long journey from here in any direction.”

“Cool. Don't mind me, you'll hardly even notice I'm here.” And with that he was off in exploration of the ship, especially in search of the kitchen.

“Rumanians...” Abrim grumbled under his breath.

###

Heinrich Gates sat at his luxuriant desk, reading through the numerous reports that had been submitted to him for the day. His primary objective was to keep well informed about every single thing happening that involved Niiz K in any way. His secondary objective was to weed through it and determine what to share with the President and Vice President, versus what details should be overlooked or re-interpreted when updating them. Heinrich loved those two. Easiest Presidential pair to work with, ever.

While reading through the report about the solar systems their expedition ships had recently uncovered, he was suddenly plunged into darkness. His eyes snapped up to the window, and outside he was greeted by yet more darkness. He scanned the horizon and saw everything, everywhere, was out. He grabbed his com device, barely containing the building rage inside of him.

“Get me emergency power in three minutes or less, or everyone down the line between me and the power station janitor is fired.”

His com device went berserk with incoming calls. He ignored it. President Speers and Vice President Kawamoto could go through his secretary if they needed anything. He had bigger fish to fry. A power outage meant trouble on Wakiza.

For the last two weeks they'd been running 12 hours off Wakiza and 12 hours off local energy, so this wasn't a life or death situation. But this was not the scheduled time for the Wakiza power to be cut. Those bloody villagers had organized and mounted an attack. Heinrich gleefully rubbed his hands. This was great news. They were no longer trespassers and squatters. Now they were terrorists. Which meant Niiz K could break out the big guns.

In under two minutes the power was back on. Heinrich made calls to all his best minions and tasked them with finding out what exactly was happening on Wakiza and reporting back to him in the clearest and most specific terms possible. That settled, he made calls to all the military and law enforcement officials who were more loyal to him than to the President and instructed them to stand by, and to not ask any questions about the orders they would soon be receiving. Finally he called up the best, most pro-Niiz K journalists he knew of. This could be spun into the most sensational story of the year, and in doing so could serve as a massive propaganda machine for Heinrich's purposes.

He had woken up that morning expecting a good day. But now it was a *great* day.

As soon as he had finished alerting the news media, his personal assistants were calling back with his summary. The villagers of Wakiza had sent out a ship, gathered a small army of sympathetic fighters, and had returned to take back the factory. Some of the guards had escaped, the rest were being held hostage. No fatalities. It seemed as though this new army had taken great care to not cause any damage that couldn't be reversed later.

That detail would make it a trifle more inconvenient to spin to the news. Unless they simply left it out. No one would ask.

“How large was this army?” Heinrich finally asked.

“At least seven of them,” replied his assistant.

Heinrich paused. He processed. His voice dropped soft and low as he attempted to say what he needed to without losing control of himself.

“Do you mean to tell me,” he continued, clenching his fists, “that the single most essential source of energy for our entire corporation … was taken by seven people?”

“Well, um, seven people and some villagers backing them up.”

“No. No. No. Stop talking. Listen to me. The villagers are nothing. A small team of police officers with practically no training and no supplies broke their ranks, destroyed their towns, and set them fleeing. The villagers are nothing. So are you telling me that with just seven helpers, our team was not able to hold our single. Most. Essential. Resource?”

The assistant gulped. “Yes?”

Heinrich unclenched his fists. He smiled, relaxed, and sat back in his chair.

“OK. Good.”

“Good, sir?”

“Yes. Good. I am very pleased about your new opportunity. You have suddenly been drafted to the infantry. Report to the nearest military station, whereupon I will see to it that you are first to go face these seven terrorists. If I am pleased with your work, perhaps I'll consider bringing you back here to Ademar.”

The assistant began stammering out a half apology/half thanks as Heinrich cut off the call. Arrogant police grunt workers. Getting high and mighty, assuming nobody could stop them. Now look at the result. Nearly two minutes without power. The capital of Niiz K hadn't had a power disruption in nearly a century.

###

“Citizens of the Niiz K Corporation were in for the shock of their lives this evening,” said the anchor of the *Galactic News Network*, “as all power was suddenly cut off for nearly two full minutes across the planets Ademar, Jaakobah, Farra, and Salma. Early reports indicate this was due to a possible terrorist attack on an off-world power station, located on nearby planetoid Wakiza. Little is known about the identity or motives of these terrorists, but spokespersons for Niiz K have emphasized that plans are underway to launch a counter strike and, if possible, negotiate peacefully with these insurgents.”

“Doom awaits us all!” proclaimed the anchor of *Okain Studios*. “Extremists have infiltrated every level of the Niiz K Corporation! All their factories and power stations have been demolished and the very government has been crippled! Soldiers lay slain left and right, leaving no one to defend the poor defenseless women and children! The humanity! Think of the children! Why do they never think of the children?”

Heinrich watched the news happily from his leather seat. Mere minutes had passed and already the news media was behaving as he had hoped. The *Galactic News Network* needed work though. He may have to buy a few more of their editors.

###

“Alright gang, listen up,” began Vanessa. She paced back and forth in front of the remaining Niiz K guards who were bound and gagged, then lined up against the back wall. “Phase One went off without a hitch. The message has been sent. Enough guards escaped that they've been able to inform the higher-ups about what's going on. Now we need to prepare for their retribution.”

“What do we do about those guards?” John Smith asked, indicating the men lined up behind her.

“That depends on what we do for phase two. So here's my proposal. A portion of us go out and scavenge. All these guards have piles of equipment outside, plus the ships that brought them here in the first place. Niiz K is going to have much, much better gear than we do, so we steal whatever we can. The remaining ones of us turn this factory into a fortress. It's already built like one, so that should be easy work. We brainstorm every possible attack they may make and we prepare for it.”

“Shouldn't we have been doing that already?” asked a villager.

“Absolutely not. Never make plans before you've scouted out the battle site. Then instead of looking at it with fresh eyes, you try to work it into your existing plan. That'll probably be Niiz K's downfall. They think they know the battle site already. Now that we're here, the specifics have changed, but they'll still be running off their battle plan. That gives us an advantage.

In addition to that, remember that we have time on our side. They can do without this factory for periods of time, we know that already. That means they don't need to rush. What they need is to get public opinion on their side so nobody questions it when they fight back. They have a reputation to uphold, remember. We don't.”

With haste, John Smith took 30 of the villagers and set out looting whatever they could. The remaining 43 villagers started work on turning the factory into a fortress where they might be able to face down the brunt of Niiz K's wrath. Vanessa, Bernard, Ty, Abrim, and Anthony scouted everything and brainstormed on every assault they could theoretically face.

Willie laid in a hammock and repeatedly chided them to relax and just hang with Niiz K when the troops arrived.

The landscape was simple. To the south of the factory was a dense jungle and swamp. They could easily rule out an assault coming from that way. To the west was mountainous rocks, which could present good cover for an encroaching force, but they reasoned that would likely be used as a last resort. To the north and east was open field, scattered with the charred remains of what used to be the villagers homes. This was the most obvious source of an attack, by land and by air. An aerial bombardment is something they could never survive, but neither could the factory, and considering how much drilling had been done to the extremely volatile core, they assumed Niiz K wouldn't risk such an attack.

“I'm actually pretty confident we can pull this off,” said Abrim.

###

Edwin Reich examined the map of the factory site. He had been allotted 100 troops, three armored tanks, and one large bomber to take down about eighty terrorists. It seemed like a straightforward battle and one that wouldn't last long. Of course, this kind of overconfidence is what made Niiz K lose the factory in the first place, so he reminded himself of the importance of assuming the best of his enemies. He was angry that none of the guards who escaped had been able to provide information about the opponents outside of giving them a number. Knowing your enemy was the most important rule of war, and now Edwin was going into it without that advantage. The insurgents clearly knew Niiz K. In that respect, they had the upper hand.

Edwin briefly considered asking for more support, but then reasoned that the Corporation clearly trusted him with this assignment, so he determined to not let them down. He couldn't appear cowardly or weak before them.

The troops and tanks were loaded up inside the bomber and made the trip from Ademar to Wakiza. They landed far enough from the factory that they could be sure no sort of siege weapon could be used against them. Edwin was relieved they landed with no opposition. The tanks exited down the ramp, followed closely thereafter by the ground troops. As they advanced upon the factory, Edwin was ill at ease. The building was closed up completely, no surprise, but it was silent. No alarm raised, no clamor of movement. Eerie silence.

He ordered the advancement to halt. He hadn't yet considered how to deal with no retaliation. The easiest option would be bombard the factory, but excessive damage wasn't allowed. He also didn't have the option to besiege them as they likely had supplies that could outlast the time window Edwin Reich was given to take the factory back.

He gathered a squad of fifteen men, five of them outfitted with climbing gear, and sent them to the building. Along the way they swept for mines or grenades that may harm the tanks. Once they reached the walls and reported back no mines, the tanks advanced.

At about the midway point, the ground erupted into an explosion and caved in, taking the three tanks with it. Edwin's blood ran cold. Of course. There were tunnels for maintenance underneath them, accessible from the factory interior. He sent six men below to check if the tanks were repairable or not. They were not.

He indicated to the five men who had advanced earlier to still attempt scaling the factory. As soon as they touched the outer walls, an electric shock hit them and knocked them to the ground. Shots rang out from the top of the factory at the ten who had accompanied them, and they too fell to the ground.

Edwin smiled despite himself. Whoever these people were, he liked them. He ordered the bomber to take off again and get another aerial view of the factory. The report surprised him. There was no one on the rooftop, just well camouflaged firearms, apparently being remotely aimed and activated. It had taken a few potshots at the bomber as well, to no real effect.

First wave of the battle and already his tanks were gone and only 85 men remaining. They were almost even with the terrorists now, even though they hadn't yet seen them.

He examined the factory anew. Damage was permitted, but only damage that wouldn't affect the functionality of the building when they took it back. Niiz K was burning so much money on their backup power stations that they needed the Wakiza supply to come back as soon as possible. Time could not be wasted on repairs. Edwin realized exactly what he needed to do.

The doors weren't essential. His bomber was practically immune to the minor firepower they had. Outfit the rear cannons with sturdy tow line. Fly up to the doors. Rip them off. Lay down small arms oppressive fire and allow his team to move in. He put the plan into action, and it went off beautifully. As soon as the doors were forcibly removed, the hatchway of the bomber opened and a small contingent of men fired off three rounds, almost blindly, through the gaping hole where the doors were. After the three volleys, twenty troops charged in. They were greeted by riot bombs that pushed them back. The Niiz K troops adjusted their angle and fired into the factory until there was silence. Some cautiously stepped forward again only to be blindsided by another round of riot bombs. The group of men still standing retreated with the intention of regrouping, but upon stepping out of the smoke enshrouded room realized the visors on their helmets had been shattered by the blast.

Vanessa climbed out onto the roof and stepped forward through the smoke until she could see where the bomber was hanging in the air above her. She had been eagerly awaiting this opportunity for a long time. She removed the assault cannon off her back and aimed it upward. Years of working jobs for Niiz K was paying off. Being shuttled about in their ships and waiting to board in maintenance bays and so forth had taught her that, despite the heavy amount of armor on these bombers, there was always at least a small hatch on the bottom for routine maintenance. Abrim, by her side, took a sniper rifle and shot off the latch holding it closed.

On board the ship, the consoles in the cockpit began flashing an alert of unauthorized access. They looked below and saw Vanessa aiming the assault cannon in its direction. The trigger pulled, the projectile flew up and landed a direct hit on its target. The bomber in turn lost engines and plummeted to the ground below.

###

In the Niiz K military command center, Heinrich Gates watched through the cameras mounted on the bomber. He recognized that face, gleefully shooting down his expensive property. This was the problem with hiring outside help.

“You there,” Heinrich ordered someone who just happened to be standing nearby. “Stop whatever you're doing. Watch this woman. Write down every single thing she does that reveals she knows inside information about us and our technology. Send it as a report to myself so we can make sure we revise all of these features before future confrontations. If she knows these things, maybe others do too.”

Before he left the room, he spoke to a general nearby.

“This Edwin Reich. How sure are you of his efficiency?”

“Absolutely sure. I know things aren't looking good so far, but considering the restrictions we've given him, he's still handling it admirably.”

“Alright. Contact him. Offer him whatever resources he needs to take this factory.”

“Very well. Where are you going?”

“I have a date tonight with Natalya Pietrov.”

“The concert pianist?”

“Yes, and I expect lots of media coverage about it. The press loves it when famous attractive people are seen together in public. It should afford me a wonderful opportunity to get more popular support on our side.”

###

The seven sat together around a fire they had built near a window in the factory. Wakiza was out of Niiz K space for the next few hours and they were taking the respite as a chance to eat, sleep, and recuperate.

“I had no idea their boots had such thick soles,” apologized Vanessa. “I'm grateful Abrim had the backup plan of lobbing riot bombs when the electrified floor didn't work. That would've been the end of the battle right away.”

“At least electrifying the outer wall worked,” said John. “So the plan wasn't a total loss.”

“Hey, uh,” said Ty, “did anyone die today?”

“Honestly?” replied Bernard. “I don't know. They carried everybody away as they retreated. I trust their armor was good enough to protect them from any lasting harm. Or least,” he said, taking a sip of the drink in his hand, “that's what I keep telling myself.”

“Who cares,” grumbled John Smith. “They're all Niiz K goons. Good riddance.”

The room fell silent for a moment.

“It, uh,” Anthony began cautiously, “it sounds like maybe you have a bit of a bigger beef here than the rest of us do.”

“Yep,” he answered before falling silent again. After a few minutes, he rolled over and went to sleep. Each in turn did the same, except Willie who had been asleep ever since the sun went down.

Bernard and Vanessa walked up to the roof. It had been prearranged they would keep watch through the night in shifts. Now was their turn.

“I never did get a chance to say thank you,” said Vanessa, interrupting the quiet breeze whipping around them.

“For what?” he asked, somewhat bewildered.

“For one, saving my life last month. When we were escaping from that asteroid. I know we were pretty close to losing the ship there. So thanks for remembering how to pilot it well enough to get us out.”

“No need to thank me. I would've died too, so I'm also happy with the outcome.”

“But especially thanks for coming to help me with this. Let's be honest. I have no idea how this is going to go. We may very well have stepped into a suicide mission. Even if we survive, we won't really get a reward for it.” She sighed deeply, and then laughed. “A few times I've paused and asked myself why I even wanted to do this.”

“Because it's the right thing.”

“Becoming terrorists?”

“Not that necessarily. The villagers were being hunted. Sure they were here illegally, but they didn't know that at first. Once they realized it, they had no option to leave. You wanted to help because you're a good person.”

She didn't reply for a long while. Just as Bernard adjusted to the awkward pause, she spoke up again.

“No. Quite the opposite. I wanted to help because I'm a terrible person.”

“How exactly do you figure?”

She sighed again. “You were on Azriel V, you said?”

“Yes.”

“So was I.”

“I know. You told me. You took the roof assault.”

“I never told you why I was there.”

He waited. He had a sinking feeling he didn't want to know where this was going. He remained silent until she spoke again of her own accord.

“Niiz K hired me. They claimed it was to make sure an innocent man wasn't convicted of the murder. But that obviously wasn't true. They never even let me meet the person who was wrongly accused. The Dagger came and whisked him away. After I'd gotten there and begun my investigation, Niiz K contacted me again with the kind of message that goes *oh by the way, while you're there, could you check on this other thing for us?* It was extremely suspicious and even obstructed the murder investigation, but I did it. The paycheck they offered me was extraordinary. I made so much money off it that I'll never need to work again. But it involved stealing information that was relevant to an ongoing police investigation and selling to Niiz K instead. I've done lots of jobs for them. Most turn out like that. It bothered me at first, but over time I question it less and less.”

She stopped and stared at her feet for a little while before continuing again.

“When we met, I was finally doing a proper, almost legal job for them. There was a sense of relief that came from it. I didn't feel like as bad of a person for helping them when there was a clear benefit to it. After it was over I went to Rumania to relax a while, and that's when I met the Wakiza refugees. Hearing what they'd been going through sickened me. Prior to that I almost felt good about Niiz K again. I almost felt good about myself again. But when I was forced to acknowledge this is how they were … I dunno. I lost it. I needed to get back at them for misleading me. But then I felt worse when it dawned on me that they never had misled me. I wanted to believe everything I was doing was okay. I wanted to hit back at them where it hurts for that. And now I've dragged you and all the others into it.”

She sat down on the roof and looked up into the sky. Bernard sat next to her and spoke.

“You didn't drag me into it. My whole life has been about helping others. I'm happy to be here.”

Vanessa smiled and reached into her jacket, pulling out a flask.

“What's this?” Bernard asked.

“It's called fiafia. They make it in Rumania. I wanted to share a little with you.”

###

Edwin examined the blueprints of the factory in great detail. He needed to know everything. Each floor, above ground and below, plus all the tunnels. He had finally figured out the best way to do this. Each floor had a separate power circuit, and the top floor's had nothing to do with the production of energy. In other words, the top floor could be damaged to his heart's content and there would be no adverse consequences. There was no way the insurgents would see this coming.

###

Ty and Abrim were on watch when the factory began rotating back into Niiz K space. She sounded the alarm to rouse everyone to their stations. The exact same second the horizon entered the proper space, the sky stopped growing brighter with the rising of the sun, but instead started becoming dimmer. Fleets of ships soared through the air, blackening the sky as they approached, small arms fire opening up and casting a spray of shots all around. Ty and Abrim ran downstairs seeking shelter as the shots grew nearer, with one projectile digging into the back of her leg.

Dozens of bombers lowered into a ring all around the roof of the factory, and out came swarms of men with cutting tools. The insurgents hiding inside tried to advance up to stop them, but immediately realized the task was too large. They retreated further down.

Within minutes, the entire top floor had been cut open, as bombers lowered tow lines below and lifted the roof and entire top floor off the building, moving it aside, and dropping it to the ground below. 500 Niiz K soldiers jumped into the open maw and advanced downstairs.

The insurgents ran at top speed, each of them desperately trying to think of a plan to turn things around in their favor. They thought they had prepared for each eventuality, but this level of aggression from Niiz K was not anticipated.

Abrim had laid out a network of booby traps throughout the whole building, albeit expecting the enemy troops would start below and work their way up. As they ran he tried his best to prime as many as he could, and was pleasantly surprised to hear them going off on occasion as they hastened downstairs.

Vanessa, Bernard, and Ty took the front as they ran and shouted out suggestions of what to do and where to go, while Abrim, John Smith, and Anthony Spades tried fighting off the occasional soldier who approached them from behind.

By time they reached the second floor, a plan was made. Escape to the tunnels, flee to the jungle swamp or the mountains, and regroup from there. Most of the villagers they didn't need present at the factory were hiding out in those areas anyway, so there would be backup. The problem came when they hit the ground floor.

Despite their efforts to secure the door again overnight, Niiz K had busted it open again, and the floor was now swarming with soldiers approaching their front. Blocked from the front and being closed in on from behind, Abrim went for a last ditch effort. For years one of his most prized possessions was a jet pack, albeit an experimental and unreliable one. Over time he'd made minor improvements to it on occasion, hoping to make it trustworthy, but not much progress was made. But for right now, he needed an emergency system, so he fired it up. As he sailed over the heads of everyone in the room, he dropped the two remaining riot bombs he had, clearing out a space between his companions and the entrance to the maintenance tunnels below. He landed effortlessly next to the doors, threw them open, and gestured his team inside.

As they entered, the Niiz K soldiers still standing were recovering from the riot bomb blasts and moving in again. As he entered the tunnel, Abrim removed his jet pack, set it to overdrive, and placed it right in the doorway. If things went very, very well, it would explode and collapse the tunnel behind them.

Moments after he'd placed it, a soldier reached up and managed to switch it off. Abrim looked back in horror to see his makeshift bomb powering down and the Niiz K troops gaining ground towards the tunnel. He looked ahead and saw his team fleeing further into the tunnel, oblivious to what he was attempting. He smiled and turned back to his jet pack. He fought the man off from his pack and switched it back on, just as a shot hit him square in the chest. As Abrim fell, he pushed the jet pack back into place, enemy troops passing him by in a blind rush to enter the tunnel. He heard the blast and a subsequent sound of falling rocks.

###

“What was that?” Anthony shouted as he turned back to the sound of an explosion. One by one the team stopped as they turned and realized that the mouth to tunnel had collapsed, leaving a dense wall between them and Niiz K.

“What a relief,” Vanessa said as she caught her breath. “Everybody OK?”

“I'm good,” Ty said as a trail of blood continued running down her leg.

“I've been better,” John said as he compressed a large wound on his shoulder near his neck.

Bernard wheezed and fell over. He had three shots in his back.

Without a word Vanessa grabbed him under his arms and lowered him to the ground, opening his med pack and sorting through the supplies he had left.

“Hey guys,” Anthony said quietly, “has anyone seen Abrim?”

Vanessa looked up to the collapsed entryway, paused, and then returned to Bernard's wounds.

“Guys! Seriously! Abrim was behind us when ...”

“We know!” Vanessa said without looking up. “You can either go back for him, or shut up and help us with the wounded people we have here.”

Anthony stared at the entryway a moment longer, and then turned to the med pack, took a few things, and got to work on John's shoulder.

###

Willie's hammock shook. He sighed. The top floor was supposed to be quiet. This was where they had agreed there would be no booby traps. Willie wanted none of the nonsense going on around them, so the team thankfully agreed to leave him a segment of the factory where he could be alone and get his micro-micro-micro-brewery running again until they left the planet. But what was all this ruckus?

Before he knew it, he could feel the whole floor moving. The light coming through the window streaked as the view changed. He ran over to get a better look and saw the entire top floor being airlifted away from the rest of the factory.

“This is not how I wanted to be woken up,” he muttered to himself. “I'd prefer to woken up by luau music. The smell of meat being grilled. Dancers. Not any of ...”

Before he could finish his thought, the entire thing began plummeting to the ground. He fell back into his hammock, cushioning the blow when everything crashed. Unfortunately, the weight and strain snapped both ends of his hammock rope, and he plopped down to the floor.

“Not to worry,” he reasoned to himself. “I'm in pain, but maybe they didn't realize anyone was inside. Plus, maybe they didn't mean to drop this. It could've been an accident. Accidents happen all the time with machines. No reason to throw a fuss.”

He examined his room. Everything was out of place, but he had no plans today. He could get it all set back up. His eyes drifted over to his micro-micro-micro-brewery. It was smashed to bits. Nearly every single piece of it. He hadn't brought replacements. He could feel himself losing his cool. He didn't know how long he'd be on this little planet. And now he had no way to make rum. Not even beer! And there were no refineries on this dinky little rock! He'd asked! And it wasn't that people were hiding a refinery from him! He would've been able to smell it! Now he was *stuck* here for who knows *how long* without a *brewery* or *any way to replace his stock*!

He jolted to a stop. His stock. How much did he have? Had it survived? He ran to the cabinets he kept his supply inside of. A sigh of relief escaped him. 47 bottles unbroken. But then a chill ran through his spine. Only 47 bottles? With no chance of replacement?

The rage burst forth once again, uninhibited. He screamed to the heavens as pure wrath descended upon him for the first time in his life.

###

“Is the new plan progressing well?” the Niiz K general asked Edwin Reich.

“Couldn't be better. I do apologize for the removal of the top floor of the factory, but as I'd said in my report, its absence will not affect the functionality of the factory. We'll just have to be careful about water damage from rain until it's replaced.”

“Excellent. And the insurgents?”

“On the run. We've completely retaken the factory and my men are turning it back on. In mere minutes it'll be providing our worlds with power once again.”

“Excellent.” The General rubbed his chin. “Now when you say *on the run*, where exactly are they running to?”

“I know this is not going to sound ideal, but hear me out. They have escaped into the maintenance tunnels.”

“Do those not have access to the core?”

“They do, but here's why I'm not worried. They only real damage they could do there is to spark an explosion which would destroy everything, themselves and their precious refugees as well. I think we can safely rule that out as an option.”

“Well I must say, despite incredible challenges, you seem to be handling this with grace and ingenuity. There is undoubtedly a commendation waiting for you when you return. Possibly a promotion if it continues to go well.”

“Thank you sir,” and with that the call cut. Edwin Reich was very pleased. After years of being just another commander amongst a sea of commanders, he had been hand picked for this mission, and it was going better than he'd ever expected. Sure, at the beginning he lost his tanks and bomber, but now he was giving Niiz K their power back. A small price to pay for the comfort and luxury of day to day life being restored.

An explosion rocked the ground. He snapped to attention and barked out orders. Someone needed to report to him immediately what was happening.

A very, very frightened soldier spoke up. He was new. He looked familiar as well. Very much like one of Heinrich Gates' personal assistants. It must've been his imagination.

The new recruit reported seeing flaming objects being hurled out of the top floor of the factory, these objects being aimed at different Niiz K vehicles. Edwin laughed at him. That couldn't be what was happening.

Another explosion went off nearby, taking out two tanks and removing all of Edwin's facial hair. What was going on?

Inside, Wily Willie was *mad*. He had applied logic and worked out what was going on and who was responsible for the destruction of his brewery. If he couldn't make new rum, then by golly was he going to use his 47 bottles of super-overproof rum to fight back. He stuffed torn remnants of his Hawaiian shirts into the bottles, lit them on fire, and hurled them out the windows at whatever looked important. From the chaos forming below, he assumed he was doing well. And that was after only three of his bottles. He couldn't wait to see what he could accomplish with the remaining …. the remaining … 41? No, wait. 40. Hang on. Let's see. He had tossed three. He drank two. No, he drank three as well. Or did he drink three and throw two? It was kinda blurring together mentally. Man, 'drink three throw two' is super hard to say five times fast. Oh hey, that cloud was *dope*. Like a … rabbit. Or a banana. A rabbanana. He laughed for a solid two minutes at his new word. He lit another bottle and tossed it out the window. The explosion was beautiful. Oh wait. Oh no. If he had tossed one, that made it … uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh … four he had thrown. Five. No, three. Wait, but if he had thrown three and drank two, then that clearly meant he needed to drink another. Keep it balanced. Or had he drank three and thrown two? Scrap it, he thought. Start over. If I drink this one and throw this one then we're one for one. Drink one, throw one, one for one. Whoa, he just wrote a great new song.

“Drink one!

Throw one!

One for one!”

Brilliant. He had no idea he was so good with lyrics. As he tossed another out the window and admired the blast, he had a *brilliant* idea for the second verse.

“Drink two!

Throw two!

Two for two!”

Man. He was going to win a Hilty Prize for Literature for this.

###

In the dark tunnel, Anthony Spades finished patching up John Smith, while Vanessa continued working on Bernard. She had stopped most of the bleeding, but it wasn't looking good. He was looking extremely pale and was sweating all over. Ty paced up and down, glancing down at Bernard frequently.

“How is he?” she asked.

“Same as the last twelve times you asked,” replied Vanessa. She tried not to sound angry. She understood the pain of seeing a friend in this state. “I have no idea how he's doing. I'm not a doctor. All I know is to stop the bleeding and hope for the best.”

Ty knelt down in front of Bernard. “What else should we do?”

“He can't speak. I've tried talking to him. He doesn't have the energy.”

“Can he hear us?”

“Yes. Or rather, I think so. His eyebrows have moved in response to things I say.”

Ty stood up. “In the last 19 years I've met lots of people. I hated all of them. Except him. We're not going to lose him.”

“You have any brilliant ideas then, kid?”

“Yes. We get him to a medical bay.”

“And where exactly do you think we're going to find one of those?”

“Niiz K ships. We saw hundreds land today. They turned the sky dark. Each of them has a med bay. We get him on a ship and they take care of him.”

“They guy they've spent the last two days trying to kill?”

“If there's a doctor, yes. They take oaths. We need to get him a doctor, the nationality doesn't matter a bit.”

“Alright, fine idea. But how can we?”

Ty paused. She looked at all of them. “Do you trust me?”

“Not even a little.”

Ty smiled back. “Good.” She knelt down in front of Bernard again and wiped the sweat off his brow. She leaned in close, and touched the tip of his nose.

“Tag,” she whispered, and ran away down the tunnel.

###

“I'm sorry sir,” reported an underling. “We cannot get into the building. The force remaining inside is overpowering us at every turn.”

“How could they have hidden a small army in just that one floor?” asked Edwin Reich. “I thought we flushed them all into the tunnels.”

“I don't think it's an army actually,” opined one soldier who had just returned from reconnaissance. “The bombs are being thrown out one at a time. I think it's just one guy.”

“What?” screamed Edwin. “We retook an entire factory without undue damage from an army of 80, and now one guy is keeping you at bay?”

“In our defense, sir,” protested the first soldier, “whoever it is seems to be a tactical genius!”

“Drink nine!” sang Wily Willie.

“Drink nine!

Throw nine!

Drank nine!

Threws nine!

Nine for nine!

And me and you!

No matter how we toss the dice

It had to be

The only one for me is you

And nine for me!

So happy togehthter!”

###

Ty ran down the tunnels as fast as she could. Time was clearly running out. She had read through the maps showing the network of tunnels but couldn't recall it perfectly. There was a particular web of them she was looking for. The main power supply from the core to the factory.

Finally she found it. After careful study of them to make sure the plan would work, she pulled out a com device she had taken off one of the first guards they overpowered. She turned it on and spoke.

“This is Taoyan, one of the seven you're after. Let me talk to your leader. I have terms I'd like to discuss.”

The line was silent for a long while. She began to worry that the depth of the tunnel blocked transmission when the line finally came to life.

“This is Edwin Reich, commander of the Niiz K division here. Who am I speaking to?”

“Taoyan. Call me Ty for short. I have terms.”

“Go ahead.”

“I'm sitting here next to the primary power supply cables,” she replied, fingering the grenade in her pocket. “I need you to do something for me or I destroy them and cut off your power supply for good.”

“You're bluffing. Damage anything down there and you risk igniting the core. It's pure uranium, honey. You don't get a core like that without loads of explosive and flammable materials in the space leading down to it. One spark where you're standing and you're a goner.”

Ty grinned. “Wanna try me?”

The line went silent again.

“Seriously,” she continued, growing angrier by the moment, “try me. There's only five of us down here, and two of us will probably die pretty soon from injuries. You on the other hand have hundreds of enormous ships. I saw them this morning. That's gotta be, what, thousands of men. Soldiers, pilots, medics, and so on. If the planet core goes, all of you go. Even if you leave immediately, the blast will be incredible and I'm willing to bet would still take you out. The shock wave might even hit some of your planets. I bet it'd even damage the highway. Oh, and even if none of that happens, you'll be without power. Niiz K has grown dependent on this station. I've seen the records. Your profits have doubled since you built this thing, while your power consumption has quadrupled. Providing your own power again would cripple your entire economy.”

She paused for effect.

“So again I say … wanna try me?”

The line stayed silent.

“Alright,” came Edwin's voice at last. “What do you want?”

“Medical treatment,” she said immediately. “Like I said, two of us are pretty badly hurt. I want all four of the others to be taken to a proper medical bay and fully treated. I want to stay in contact with them the entire time. And then I want them to be returned home with no record of this or their actions being kept. Once that's done, you can do whatever you want with me.”

She heard whispering being done on the other end of the line. The whispering reached a fever pitch of intensity before calming down.

“Deal,” Edwin finally said. “We'll send down a team of excavators and doctors to get your friends out of there.”

###

Vanessa and Anthony were getting more worried with each passing minute. John Smith was beginning to look pale, and Bernard's breathing was getting shallower until it was almost a rasp alone. Neither of them had any idea what was supposed to be done in a situation like this. They had all the tools at their disposal in Bernard's medical pack, but they didn't know how to use it, or what to use it for.

Sounds of rocks being moved echoed through the tunnel and they raised the weapons they still had. No sooner had the sound of rocks ceased when they heard voices calling out.

“Medical team! We have no weapons! We're here for your wounded!”

Vanessa and Anthony kept their weapons raised but moved their fingers off the triggers. They waited for the voices to approach so they could visually confirm what was happening. The medical team had two stretchers and laid Bernard and John each on one, and then carried them out as the two standing followed close behind. As they passed through the main floor of the factory, the soldiers they had been battling just an hour ago were standing aside, weapons on the ground.

They were escorted onto a ship and into the med bay, where doctors set about checking each of them, the bulk of the attention going to Bernard, who was immediately placed on life support.

###

Ty waited in the tunnel. Hours had passed. They were supposed to radio her. She needed to know if the plan worked. She choked back a sob as she considered the fact that maybe she was too late.

The com device rang out.

“Ty?” came a voice.

“Vanessa?”

“Yeah. Listen, we're fine. Well, except Docky. We very nearly lost him. He's getting surgery now and we have no idea how it's going to turn out. I just ...” She paused as she searched for the words. “I just wanted to thank you. They've told us what happened and the deal you made. I've never done anything as selfless as that before. And I wish there was something I could do to make it up to you.”

Ty sank to the floor, shaking. It worked. She brought the com device up to speak again.

“Just don't die or anything, ok?”

She heard Vanessa chuckle. “I'll do my best. Thanks kid.”

Vanessa tried saying something else, but Ty cut the com device off. She sat in silence, her head buried in her arms. They would be coming for her soon. They had to be.

She waited in silence for what seemed like an eternity. When she finally looked up, she was startled to see a man sitting in the dirt across the tunnel from her. He mimed applause.

“Who are you?” she asked, her hand bolting for the flower patterned gun and grenade in her respective pockets.

“Aw. Do you not recognize me? And here I thought I was famous enough.”

She stared a moment longer. “Heinrich Gates?”

“There she goes! Thank heavens. I was about to fire my publicist.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came here, unarmed by the way, to see you.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you left us in a pretty precarious position.”

Ty smiled inwardly at that.

“It's become pretty obvious,” he continued with a heavy sigh, “that if we carry on this squabble much longer, everyone will regret it. So here's the deal. You leave this tunnel. We send you and all your little friends back to where they came from. We repair the damage to the factory. We also, legally, take ownership of this half of Wakiza. The residents already here will get the other half, and we'll see to it that the rotation aspect gets some legal clarification worked out. Everyone satisfied, we spin it into a happy story for the media. The Wakiza residents, misunderstood underdogs. You and your friends, heroic freedom fighters. And Niiz K, the kindhearted, generous corporation that takes a financial toll just so they can provide a home to the poor, poor natives. How's that sound?”

Ty thought it sounded morally despicable. But it also sounded like the only way out that would end with her being alive.

“Fine,” she responded.

###

A week later, Vanessa was home. She was happy to finally see her family again. Sister, brother-in-law, and that bratty kid of theirs. She returned to the absolute mess of an apartment that she called home, deleted wholesale the messages that had been left for her in the last month, and sat down on a couch between two dead houseplants.

She checked her bank account. All her hard earned money. It was more than she was ever going to use, even if she chose to live like royalty. All the zeros sickened her a little, remembering where it had come from and what she gotten it for.

She needed to sleep. In her own bed. She'd feel better then.

###

Anthony Spades returned to Rumania. He knew the Dude would be missing him. She'd had such a wonderful time with him as they explored South America together. Sure, she'd told him he was “repulsive”, and “obnoxious”, and “the biggest jerk I've ever seen”, but in her eyes he saw love. She dug him. He would make her admit it.

###

The Dagger landed on Wakiza with his assistant Nadia Rundstedt and a small crew of laborers. They had enormous quantities of gold to deliver to the residents of the planetoid.

“What is this for?” the village captain asked with a bewildered stare.

“Anonymous donation,” Nadia replied. “Something about helping to rebuild your settlements. No idea what for. We all know nothing happened here in recent memory.”

“Of course,” the captain gulped. “But nonetheless, thank you for this.”

“Don't thank us,” Nadia responded, and off they went.

###

John Smith had nowhere to go. All he knew was he wanted to get away from Niiz K. As far as possible. The fact they had wiped his past from existence was one thing. He could understand that. He left of his own accord. But ever since his sister had been wiped as well, he had sworn to have no involvement with them ever again. He had a futile wish he might be able to find her, but he knew it was unlikely. Odds are she wasn't deported. Simply wiped out of existence.

He found a spaceport. He decided a roll a die and see which ship to get on and to what destination. He really didn't care.

###

Wily Willie woke up in a prison cell. He had no concept of where he was, or anything that had happened from the time he passed out while throwing Molotov cocktails until now. He was not aware, and would never be told, that while the release of his team was being negotiated, that his name was never brought up, so Niiz K had not taken it upon themselves to release him.

Thus, Willie became the only member of the assault to be publicly tried as a terrorist, and in the media was vilified as the instigator and ringleader of the team. He was found guilty on all charges, but given an easy sentence because the judge thought he was funny.

After a stint in prison, he was released on good behavior, and found himself employed on Jaakobah, the world Niiz K carefully cultivated to serve as a pleasant world for visiting dignitaries. Almost immediately he married a gorgeous waitress there and before he knew it, had 12 children to take care of. Soon he forgot how he had ever even wound up on Jaakobah, and when queried about his past and his criminal record, his standard answer was to say “Huh?” for a few minutes, kinda sorta remember it, and then carry on with his life.

###

Once again, Ty was left without a team, without a family, and without an objective. None of the team she had saved knew how to contact her, nor did she know how to contact them. She was practically homeless and without possessions outside of what she carried on her back.

After several weeks had passed, she learned of a mission coming up that sounded interesting enough that she hoped it could bring her out of her funk. That Shandüchan exploration team that had vanished previously was now getting investigated. A new ship, the *Dragonfly*, had been designed and built for the express purpose of traveling to this unknown solar system and seeking the lost team. They needed a new crew of people brave enough, yet foolhardy enough, to join the mission and journey out to the unknown.

The day came for her to board the ship and settle into the cramped cabin that would be her home for the next few weeks or months. It looked like the whole crew had gathered here at once to board the ship. It looked pretty small. Only about a dozen of them. As she scanned the crowd, she began to slightly hate them all already. They were so wide-eyed and in awe of the ship. Like they'd never seen a spaceship before. Ugh.

As she pressed through the small crowd, she felt a poke in her lower back. She turned angrily and saw, standing behind her with a small grin, Bernard Roe.

“Tag,” he whispered.