It was Juliet St. Martin who had done it. His Juliet, who he had so adored. A woman of peace and God, who had betrayed his trust by befriending those who were beneath him. He had spent so much time and energy deflecting attacks from his pur’dahm; he had never seen or suspected she would be capable of such a thing.

  He opened the door to his chamber, stepping out into the hallway. He could hear the cries of the legri’shah echoing throughout the ship, and it made him want to weep. He was trying to preserve their race. Their purity. Their history. As best he could with the limited resources he was given. Humans were inferior and so unsuitable as splices, yet he had done what he could to make it work. It wasn’t fair for it to end like this.

  “Domo’dahm,” Orish’ek said, approaching him.

  He was wearing full battle armor, carrying both a rifle and a lek’sai. Ten members of the Second Cell were with him, ready to protect their leader.

  “Orish’ek. We go to the bridge. We can destroy the rebellion from orbit.”

  “Yes, Domo’dahm.”

  He led them from his chamber, making sure to keep himself postured so they would never guess what he looked like beneath his robes.

  They were near the transport beam when a sharp roar brought them to a stop. One of the legri’shah turned the corner a moment later, pausing for a moment as it spied them. Then it hissed and charged, half-running, half-slithering along the corridor toward them, its bulk filling the space. Rorn’el looked at the beam up ahead, knowing it was too far to run.

  The Hunters didn’t flinch. They dropped their rifles, raising their lek’sai and charging back at the creature, shouting in challenging response to its growls. All except Orish’ek.

  “This way, Domo’dahm,” he said.

  Rorn’el hesitated, watching as the Hunters were attacked. The legri’shah’s head dipped down, mouth open, teeth reaching for one of them. He stepped aside, swinging his lek’sai, cutting into the legri’shah’s face. The creature hissed and snapped, catching the Hunter’s leg and biting it off, its teeth passing easily through the lek’shah.

  “Domo’dahm, we must hurry,” Orish’ek said.

  Rorn’el nodded and followed. He could hear the Hunter’s screams as they battled the creature. Right before he stepped into the beam, he heard the legri’shah cry out in a high-pitched wail of defeat.

  Then he was into the beam. He came out in the hub nearest the bridge, with Orish’ek ahead of him. There were no soldiers left here. No legri’shah either. He took two steps, and then paused as a voice surrounded him. Ehri dur Tuhrik, followed by a human voice.

  He hissed as the human spoke of freedom as if he were some manner of tyrant. He hissed as the human used the words he had heard Tuhrik speak before he had abandoned the pur’dahm cells.

  “They must be on the bridge,” Orish’ek said. “Transmitting to the other domo’shah.”

  “I will kill them myself,” Rorn’el replied.

  “No, Domo’dahm,” Orish’ek said. “I will take care of it.” The pur’dahm lifted his rifle in Rorn’el’s direction. “You have failed us.”

  Rorn’el eyed the weapon, tensing. “And you also will betray me, Orish’ek?”

  “I have done my duty, and watched you drive us to ruin. I will save the pur’dahm.”

  “You will not.”

  Orish’ek pulled the trigger. Rorn’el slipped to the side, the plasma bolt going wide. The shocked pur’dahm tried to back away, to shoot again. Rorn’el tore off his mask and dropped his robes, revealing his bek’hai form.

  “You have seen me Orish’ek,” he said. “Now you have to die.”

  Orish’ek dropped the rifle and pulled his lek’sai, barely getting it up in time to block Rorn’el’s claws.

  “I am Domo’dahm for a reason Orish’ek. Not because I am soft. Because I am strong.”

  He stayed on the traitor, striking at Orish’ek’s face, at his chest, at his shoulders. The pur’dahm didn’t try to block every attack, thinking the lek’shah would protect him.

  Thinking wrong.

  Rorn’el’s nails sank through the material. He was spliced from the legri’shah, and his claws bore the same properties as the creatures’. They were in phase with the armor, and they dug into it without resistance, sinking into Orish’ek’s flesh, cutting deep enough to force him to drop his weapon.

  “Domo’dahm, please,” Orish’ek said, standing unarmed in front of him.

  “You beg?” Rorn’el said. “You are no pur’dahm. You are barely a drumhr. More like a druk’shur.”

  Rorn’el kicked him, the claws of his feet sinking deeply into his chest. He held him for a moment with powerful legs before throwing him back into the transport beam.

  He hissed one last time, leaving his robes and mask behind while he continued on to the bridge.

  It was empty when he arrived, and while the sight of the dead humans pleased him, the dead Hunters angered him more. They had failed him, as all of his pur’dahm were failing him.

  He entered the bridge, closing and locking the hatch behind him. The humans were gone, likely trying to escape before he arrived, with Ehri dur Tuhrik leading them through the ship. It was well. They wouldn’t be able to clear the area before he bombarded it from space.

  He climbed the command dais, sitting and activating the terminal, feeling powerful in his freedom. He had spent too long covered from head to toe.

  He used sharp, blood-crusted claws to activate the reactors, running quickly through the launch sequence. It was challenging to fly a domo’shah without help, but he was up to the task. What else could he do?

  Three minutes later, the massive fortress began to rise. It shook the ground beneath it, knocking down loose structures, and dislodging tons of earth that had shifted over the ship through the years. He rotated the ship as it climbed so that he was able to look down on the battlefield. There was smoke and fire everywhere. The wreckage of gur’sha and gel’shah, and plenty of corpses. And there was the human starship, its outer shell in ruins, dead and silent nearby.

  That would be his target. While all the land around it would burn regardless, he would get such satisfaction, such pleasure from finally destroying the one ship that got away. The one ship that allowed all of this to happen. It wasn’t too late to start again. There were outposts scattered across the planet, where the clones and the drumhr wouldn’t know what was happening here. The legri’shah might be lost, but they wouldn’t need them anymore.

  The Dahm’shah continued to climb, rising quickly, reaching the atmosphere and then punching through. He noticed his sensors now, and the domo’shah returning to the planet. Were they still his?

  A symbol appeared on his terminal. A hail from one of his ships, probably seeking orders.

  “Speak,” he said, answering it.

  “Hello. My name is General Theodore St. Martin. I’d like to speak to a Domo’dahm Rorn’el?”

  Rorn’el shuddered at the human voice, tempted to close the channel immediately. He hissed softly and then replied.

  “I am Domo’dahm Rorn’el,” he said, as confidently as he could.

  “I’d say it’s a pleasure, Rorn’el, but it isn’t,” Theodore said. “You took my planet, and I’ve never appreciated that much. My wife Juliet was a peaceful, gentle soul. I believe you knew her? I want to spread your ashes across the universe, but she would want me to give you a chance to live. So, that’s what I’m gonna do. One chance, Rorn’el. What do you say?”

  Rorn’el could barely contain his anger.

  It was gone. All gone. The bek’hai race would die, and he would be forgotten. Or, if he were remembered, it would be as the Domo’dahm who killed them.

  All because of Juliet St. Martin.

  He wasn’t going to die without destroying the one that got away. He owed himself that honor at least.

  He checked his terminal, noting his position. He found the human starship sitting on the planet below and moved into the weapons systems. He shifted his claws, activating the main plasma cannon.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Theodore said.

  Rorn’el looked up and out the viewport. Six domo’shah were arranged ahead of him, dropping into his field of view. The tips of each were glowing blue, indicating that their plasma cannons were about to fire.

  He checked his own. It was still charging. Would there be enough time?

  The domo’shah fired, six beams converging on one point near the center of the ship, where the reactors sat. He had never upgraded his shields with the human technology. He had never thought he would need it, and didn’t want to soil his systems with their designs.

  The beams hit the ship, causing it to shudder.

  The terminal indicated the cannon was ready to fire.

  His claw never came down on it.

  The bridge shook violently, knocking him to the ground. He tried to get back up, but it continued shaking as the energy of the plasma drove through the structure. The viewport cracked and splintered, the entire frame breaking apart. Oxygen began to spill out, and the temperature dropped.

  “That was for the human race, you bastard,” he heard Theodore St. Martin say.

  Then the bridge vanished around him, the pieces blowing out and into space.

  Then he died.

  61

  The Dread transport landed beside the Magellan, and Gabriel jumped out of it as soon as the hatch finished opening. He turned and looked up at the sky, ignoring Ehri, Orli, El’kek, and Donovan as they joined him.

  The Dread fortresses were all visible in the space above the city, but none were more visible than the Dahm’shah. Or at least, what was left of it.

  Chunks of material sank into the atmosphere. The lek’shah, no longer given an electrical current, burned the same as any other part, all of it creating a spectacle of light in the sky that reminded him of streams he had seen, where parties on Earth ended in fireworks. He felt the moisture in his eyes at the sight.

  “Gabriel.”

  He turned, smiling as Miranda ran toward him. He opened his arms for her, catching her in a solid embrace, his eyes landing on the others trailing behind her. Colonel Choi, Guy and Sarah Larone, and Wallace, who barked and circled them, tail wagging.

  “We did it,” Miranda said. “I can’t believe we did it.”

  “Me neither,” he replied, eyes streaming with tears. “I always believed, but I never thought it would actually happen.”

  “Look,” Guy said, pointing up.

  A few smaller shapes had broken through the atmosphere, past the burning debris. They dove toward the city, leveling out and streaking across the sky. Starfighters of both human and bek’hai design. Gabriel raised his hand to them, waving at them as they passed overhead and circled back.

  A sharp hiss caused them all to freeze. A shape formed to their left, obscured by the smoldering wreckage of a Dread mech. A large, reptilian head appeared a moment later, followed by a huge body.

  The legri’shah approached them slowly, while Wallace ran to the front of the group, barking at it.

  “Wallace,” Gabriel said, reaching for the dog.

  “Do not fear,” El’kek said, moving calmly to the dog’s side.

  He put a hand on Wallace’s head, and he quieted immediately. Then he said something to the legri’shah in bek’hai, and the creature lowered itself until it was flat on the ground.

  “There has been enough killing today. Enough for many lifetimes.”

  Gabriel couldn’t argue with that. He took Miranda by the hand, leading her over to where Donovan was standing. His arm was dead at his side, but he would survive.

  “Colonel Peters,” Gabriel said.

  “Major St. Martin,” Donovan replied, smiling.

  Gabriel moved forward, embracing him for a moment before backing away. “This is my fiancee, Miranda.”

  “A pleasure,” Donovan said. “A real pleasure, just to have something so normal after all of this.”

  Miranda hugged him, careful of his arm. “It’s an honor, Colonel.”

  “So,” Guy said. “What happens now?”

  “Peace,” Ehri replied. “Between the humans and the bek’hai, at least.”

  “It will take some time to restore order,” Donovan said. “Some of us have been living in chaos for too long just to give it up.”

  “It will take time,” Gabriel agreed. “But we have time, now. We have all the time in the world.” He looked over at Ehri, and then at Orli. “What will you do?”

  The two Juliet clones glanced at one another.

  “I believe Juliet St. Martin would have wanted us to spread the news of peace,” Orli said.

  “I agree,” Ehri said. “We will help return order to this world, as emissaries for both the Earth Alliance and the bek’hai.”

  “You’ll do her proud,” Gabriel said. “Her and Theodore.”

  He moved away from them, back to Colonel Choi, giving her a hug before first embracing Sarah, and then shaking hands with Guy.

  “You both did a fine job,” he said. “I’m even starting to like you.”

  Guy laughed. “Likewise.”

  Gabriel looked back at the sky. The domo’shah were growing larger above them. The one in the lead was in bad shape. Half its fins were missing, the profile battered and ragged.

  “The Ishur,” Ehri said. “Your father.”

  “He’ll be happy to see the Magellan’s still in one piece,” Miranda said.

  “He’ll be happier to see Gabriel’s still in one piece,” Donovan said, laughing.

  “He always said he refused to die until we had our planet back,” Gabriel said. “But I hope he’ ll stick around a little bit longer.”

  “He will,” Miranda replied. “He won’t want to miss the party.”

  They watched as the Ishur descended, coming to rest in the crater the Dahm’shah had left only minutes earlier. As it settled to the Earth, a new sound began to echo across the landscape. It was like a rumble, but higher in pitch.

  “What is that?” Donovan asked.

  Ehri titled her head, listening, and then turned toward them. “Cheering,” she said with a smile. “The soldiers in the city are cheering. Humans and clones.”

  “It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard,” Donovan said.

  “Me, too,” Gabriel agreed.

  He closed his eyes, his hand falling to the crucifix around his neck. He clutched it tightly, turning his thoughts to his mother.

  “Thank you,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

  THE END.

  Thank you for reading Rebellion!

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