Calm Before the Laserbeam

"Tell me, what does a human make?"

The EVO had not stressed much over the campaign, as victory was never in question. It had been, in fact, a fantastic training exercise for the green aliens who had been pressed into the Shipmaster's service. A fresh, undefended planet, not yet taken by the Kainians, while still holding a human presence. His flock would learn a lot from this expedition.

"I'm not sure, Shipmaster," replied his flunkie, a fellow Grey Man. "Is it their duplicity, short-sightedness, fear of the natural order?"

"It is their tribalism. Humans worship categorization. They're so specific with each other that they even bear names. Incredibly foolish. Below us, a million small pockets of humanity stand defenseless against us, for we are united, and they are not. Even the Kainian Empire, mighty as it is, is only a collection of slave stock under the reign of their master Kainians. They cannot live together, proving they cannot live with us. Masters in waiting, all of them."

"You are wise, Shipmaster. Does that mean 38 will receive an audience with you?"

"No."

The masters of Lone Wolves preferred not to speak to each other. It was in their nature. Their strengths came from operating as sole agents. To work as a team frankly wouldn't do, but much like standing across a fellow wolf, body language was key, and Shipmaster understood loud and clear.

"'We are simply passing by,'" Shipmaster surmised. "'However, we too are hungry for human flesh. Let us have our serving.' And you shall receive it, my comrade." He pointed at a 3D representation of Pandema, right where the Black Obelisk lay. "What is this region?"

"The humans have been sneaky up to now, but they've been squawking constantly around this heretical item. They've given up the information war."

"As they should," Shipmaster said, but his confidence fell into deep pondering. "I sense...human thinking at play here. The tower and the ship. Very dangerous game, but the prize is grand. We should play."

"But Master," the servant croaked. "They are weak. Flock 37 and 38  can hunt human targets on their own."

"Incorrect." The Shipmaster leaned forward in his chair, smug and proud, as his lips peeled back. "If this were a proper Kanian battleship, we would use every tactical advantage to succeed. Do not be fooled, pup. We are training for bigger fights. We can't underestimate humans now. We must see them when they're cornered."

Ublaneth, the kingdom of evil, a dark and twisted labyrinth of tunnels and factories hostile to life, was filled with refugees. The tight cave system had been congested for some time as civilians made their way to the northern cave systems, all while warriors set up weapons caches and defense points in the dimly lit halls. The human forces had become a strange hodgepodge of cultures, ornate and meticulous Rydian janissaries, slab-metalled, rough Ublanethans, and the Earthlings, wielding carbon weapons and light padding. Their cooperation came with a cultural barrier that made the idea of defense a challenge. Their leadership had to wield them more precisely.

"Our entry points are here, here, and here, where we stand," Devol pointed. She and Szeer were outside on the plateau, a vantage point over the black and yellow sand dunes. "But if they were to make their own entrance, the zone southwest of the tower would create the straightest shot to the Core."

"You realize Dr. Devol," Szeer said. "That we are still enemies, and I won't forget this."

"I'm aware of that," she replied. "But I don't think you'll have much left after I claim victory. Once your people are put to work, I'll tally up how much land you owe me for my services."

If Szeer played his cards right, she wouldn't be around to collect. "You're terrifying, you know that."

Somewhere out in the desert, two figures sat on a rock facing the northwest. The remains of Rydia were somewhere over the horizon, but the waves of sand kept them obscured.

"It's such a pleasant day," Maed-laio said. She carried a parasol made of reeds and elephant ear-sized plants and cloth, resembling a flower. "It makes me wish we had more days like this."

"Right." Kalin's voice was a low murmur, his eyes focused to the south. A long pause drifted between them. "I don't like this place. It's salty and brings a lot of bad memories. What are we fighting for, Maed? We're surrounded by enemies. Nothing good will come out of this."

"Kalin, you're so ridiculous. Do I have to whip you into shape?" Her question was half joking, half threatening. 

"Right, of course. For Szeer." He sighed. "For Snu."

"I know you'll make everything right."

Maed-Laio stood, gently brushing Kalin's cheek in a way that activated him like she'd done many times before. Her stance was confident, as she didn't worry about defeat or death. So long as Kalin stood like he's always done, this battle was won, and she prayed to see him at the end of it as she walked into the desert, parasol swinging from side to side.

Kalin sat there momentarily, filling his heart with steel and iron, when his men and neighbors rode in to retrieve him. Kalin covered up in his cotton-like garb and made for the city.

Up in the Betelgeuse, Reynolds once again retook his seat. His skin tingled from the rays of Pandema's sun. He had felt the planet's heat and stood different than before, his crew watching him with anticipation. Once he gave the call, there was no turning back.

He raised a wired comm to his ear. "Doctor Devol, are you there?" A few seconds passed.

"This is Ublaneth speaking," she replied as if eagerly awaiting his words for hours. "Are you ready to see our power, blonde one?"

Reynolds gave a nervous smile. His meeting with the doctor was brief but inciteful. The villainess had a manner of speaking that the Captain found charming in a way, if at least odd, and he made a good impression on her in return. An interesting spark, but it would have to be for another time.

"You may begin."

"Yes!" She reached for the other side of her console and pulled out a radio transmitter. "Let's get this started! Have all units armed and ready and all entrances sealed. Sons, begin the firing sequence."

As soon as orders were confirmed and the transponders hung up, Devol could hear the hum of her tower evolve into a whirlwind of sound, a cacophony of steam pipes hissing and gears whirring. The entire foundation of the tower's tip jittered under the machinations of a gear system that twisted the top on its head. The ancient structure, older than most creatures on the planet, swiveled on a disc, and the impenetrable north face revealed Devol's most devilish invention. The Eye of Ublaneth, she called it.

As soon as the charging sequence began and power diverted from the city's outer edges into the tower, a blip popped on Flock 37's spectrum array.

"Shipmaster!" said a scanner reader. "A surge of power is spiking to the north."

"Ah, it's true!" The Shipmaster clawed at his chair. "Full speed ahead! We shall destroy it!"

The Lone Wolf burst forth hundreds of kilometers a second, a speed only available to high-end spacecraft. Swiftly, the players assumed their position, with the Shipmaster tasting blood in his mouth from the excitement and Captain Reynolds ordering a subtle alignment between his ship and Ublaneth.

The locals could feel the earth tremble as if it were an earthquake. The power that accumulated at the tip of the Black Obelisk was an amount considered unfathomable. Even the Earthlings upon the plateau found it something beyond any expected metric. If this Eye was this powerful, they may have a chance. By the time it hit 70% power, the enemy vessel had already entered the country. It loomed over the desolate landscape like a boat at sea, gently rotating in the air.

"So this is what the galaxy has over me." Devol grinned, a nervous chuckle escaping her breath. "Then let's dance. Divert all power! Raise the shields!"

The sparkling electricity and deafening hum ceased almost immediately, and power quickly returned to the underground city. Within seconds, the swivel returned to its original position, and the great obsidian walls closed in on itself, sealing the top in darkness. A light switch flickered back on over Devol's desk as she held onto her console. Her hands trembled. She noticed that the enemy ship was building up in energy as well. She was about to test her monument's mettle.

The Lone Wolf fired. The laser took a few seconds to make its mark, but its precision and strength could be felt instantly. The black tower became a spectacle of light as the might of the EVO's arsenal pressed into it. It was enough power to level rock, mountain steel, anything outside of stiff Kainian shielding. And yet, the tower held. As the Betelgeuse watched via video camera, a wave of cautious optimism took hold. What their archives said was true. Ublaneth's material, while malleable from the inside, was impervious from the outside. Brute force wouldn't open this fortress.

"Master," the gunner asked, his body shaking from the haptic feedback. "It's not doing anything!"

"Then clear around it. We conduct a proper invasion today."

The Lone Wolf tilted and spun as if on an axis, and the laser flew wildly across the landscape. Sand turned to glass instantly, and the ruins of old Ublaneth were diced even faster than the golden temples of Rydia. The ship cut the land like a scalpel, moving in an infinity pattern to ensure they destroyed whatever they touched.

Underground, the strength of the beam cut into the solid rock, evaporating a few unlucky souls and driving out hundreds more as the leftover heat and smoke suffocated them. Some paths were cut off while new ones were made. On the occasions when the laser hit a weak point, it reached all the way into Ublaneth's main cavern. It took nerves of steel and proper underground knowledge for the humans to evacuate the underdwellers quickly.

At last, the order for a hammer blow was given, and the pinpoint laser became a dispersed ray of death. The ruins and surrounding land would not be cut to ribbons, but nothing in the ship's rays would survive. The EVO couldn't correctly determine hostiles in the area, but they assured that nothing on the surface would live.

"Master, the ship needs time to replenish itself," an engineer said. "Should we hunt them on the surface?"

"Yes, make it so." The Shipmaster observed the map. The tower enraged him so much that he could barely think, but his cameras showed him the progress he sought. "Mark the entry points. We will launch with our full power. No prisoners."