“The first post is on that ridge,” Mik’t said, pointing toward a broken hillside. “According to their policy, there will be one soldier on duty and the other will be sleeping.”
“So how do you want to handle this?” Monique replied.
“I would rather if we didn’t have to kill every Scaladorian we come across. Even if it kills me, I have to believe some of them are worthy of redemption.”
Monique nodded, accepting the alien’s answer for what it was. She understood what he was saying, but had long ago stopped believing in redemption for those who would take advantage of others. While it was true that the Stygibora had gone out of their way to erase who his people had once been, they were still responsible for their actions. There wasn’t a single excuse that could justify the enslavement and extermination of so many. Even humanity figured out that slavery was wrong, eventually. It still happened—there were terrible people in every society—but society as a whole recognized the actions as evil and unwarranted.
She adjusted the belt that restrained the extra arms of her enviro suit and kept walking; they were almost to their destination and her blood was boiling with anticipation. The plan was simple; Mik’t would unlock the door while pretending to be part of the replacement crew. Once the door was open and the airlock had fully cycled, the pair would enter the shelter and restrain the guard on duty. Then, they would lock the door to the crew cabin and let Mik’t talk to them one at a time.
If they were smart, they would join the Humans and forgo their former lives. While she didn’t think it was likely, it was worth the shot.
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“Are you ready?” She asked, staring at the shelter door less than twenty meters away.
“I have to be. Either we succeed, or my people die. There is no in between.” He replied, clicking his mandibles dejectedly. Clearly filled with mental anguish, he closed the distance to the shelter and engaged the console.
After a terse conversation in the Scaladorian tongue, the outer airlock door opened, allowing the two rebels entry. Once inside, the door closed behind them and the cycle of adding air to the thin Narax atmosphere began, equalizing the pressure difference and making it possible to breathe comfortably again.
Monique prepared her weapon, tightening her grip on the stinger in her hand as she waited for the door to open. A few seconds later, her wish was granted. She dashed out, surprising the Scaladorian guard with the blade piercing through a weak point on its exoskeleton. Not wasting any time, Mik’t moved to the sectioned off sleeping quarters and turned the external lock, barricading the oblivious creature inside.
“Give me a reason.” Monique said, the translator in her helmet broadcasting the snarling words.
“Who… Who are you?” The guards translator clicked, raising its four arms and sinking to its knees.
“I am nothing. I do not matter, but you will know my people. We are the ones deep inside those mines, forced to work for nearly nothing as you feast. We, my friend, are your new masters.” Monique said, twisting the hilt of her weapon to stun and watching the creature pass out from the pain. “Mik’t, you’re up, my friend.”
“Indeed.” The Scaladorian replied, stepping over the other guard as he began tapping at the console. “This won’t take long. I was able to locate a record of all commands used on this outpost. You would think they would secure the data so it couldn’t be used against them in this manner, but you would be wrong. The hubris shown by my people is… disturbing.”
As Mik’t complained about the lack of security, he took over the system and began changing the parameters that could differentiate friend from foe. It would take time, but with enough work and dedication, he truly believed it could eventually become the place of freedom Jean imagined it could be.
