Monique stabbed another Scaladorian guard with the ferocity of someone forced to endure unspeakable horror for months on end. Twisting the weapon, she activated the sonics built into the hilt and thoroughly disoriented the target. To follow up the attack, she slammed her shoulder into the stunned guard and rode it to the ground before ripping the blade free.

  Orange blood sprayed from the wound and splattered across her face, carrying with it the distinctive musk of a crushed insect.

  With no time to waste, she sprang to her feet, twisting her body to avoid a guard bearing down on her from behind. The attacking Scaladorian’s attack missed, its two lower arms catching nothing but air as the human warrior avoided the attack. Bringing her stinger-blade into a high guard, she stepped inside the alien’s reach and drove the weapon’s spiraling point between two plates of armor.

  Intent on staying on her feet, Monique yanked down, ripping the weapon out of the creature and spilling more blood on the ground. Stepping back for a breath, a group of prisoners ran past, tackled the stumbling creature, and pounded on its head with clubs made from the iron-bound handle of their pickaxes.

  “Are you injured?” Jean asked, stepping up to Monique and glancing her over.

  “I’m fine, just not used to fighting anymore,” she replied, rolling her shoulders to loosen them up. The fighting had only lasted a few moments, but the prisoners still had the upper hand. If they allowed the offensive to lapse, the guards would regroup, and the prisoner's rebellion would end. “Take care of these. If we’re going to win this thing, I’m going to need all the focus I can get.”

  Not waiting for a response, the woman reached up to her ears and pulled her magnetic hearing aids from their subdermal partners. It was a quirk of her personality that always confused Jean, but she swore that turning off her hearing allowed her to focus more fully.

  He took the delicate instruments and tucked them over his ears for safe keeping. “Be safe out there. Earn our freedom,” His hands signed before she turned away and jumped back into the action.

  Around him, prisoner and guard fought for their lives. The brief exchange had already left many dead, but the killing was far from over. Each side knew that if one should win, the other would die. Justice had no place here, not yet. Whoever won this fight would become the face of justice on this world.

  Jean looked down at the first Scaladorian they’d killed and noticed the pistol tucked in his belt. It wasn’t the only firearm on the field, but there weren’t many. Executing an attack while the guards were still being briefed on the prison's status should have been obvious.

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  But Scaladorians didn’t think like that. They believed in honorable combat and that if a commander had to trick the enemy to win; he had already lost. When Mik’t explained how his people thought, Jean immediately shifted the plan to account for an enemy that would never attempt to misdirect the enemy.

  And the way he did that was by leaning so heavily on misdirection, any Scaladorian that might ever learn about this attack would assume all of humanity was honorless. Granted, being honorless didn’t matter when the alternative was to die starving in a cave on a lonely world far from home.

  After grabbing the pistol, he verified it was fully charged. The alien weapon felt odd in his hands, but it appeared to be similar enough to a human configuration that he could use it reasonably well. Far as he could tell, there was no safety on the weapon. Just pull back on the slide and wait for the battery to charge the first round.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Guards fell as the taser rounds slammed into their chests and scrambled their minds. In civilized combat, shackles would follow those bullets while the shooter waited for the victims to recover. Unfortunately for the Scaladorian guards, the conditions imposed on these prisoners had stripped away any sense of civility they had.

  Humans descended on the fallen guards with hammers and clubs. One even going so far that he drove the business end of his pick directly through a Scaladorian head. As he scanned for his next target, Jean noticed just how much red was mixed with Scaladorian orange on the blood-soaked ground.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  They would soon win the day. But they would count heavy losses. Of the near two-hundred prisoners that charged the barracks, less than half would walk away from the endeavor.

  Near the back of the room, Monique held the last Scaladorian guard against the wall. The tip of her stinger pierced its chitin, but was not driven through to the hilt. Every time the creature so much as moved, she twisted the base and activated the sonic attack. It only took a few seconds each time, but every attack clearly drove the guard to the brink of consciousness.

  “Why is it alive?” Jean signed, drawing the creature's knife and slicing off its utility belt. In a practiced movement, he slid the knife into the waistband of his pants and turned to listen to his right hand.

  “Because officers should end each other’s lives. This was your army, your plan, and your dream for freedom.” She whispered, barely audible unless you knew to be listening for her voice. The average person thinks the deaf shout when they can’t hear the world around them. But in Monique’s case, that is false. Without her hearing, she doesn’t know how loud she is, so she assumes she is shouting and lowers her voice.

  “That is fair. Does he have a translator?” He signed.

  “No. None of these guards even had the chance to don their armor. We caught them before they made it to the armory.”

  “Unfortunate.” Jean signed, drawing the knife and speaking in standard. “If only you knew how evil your masters are, and how fooled you have been. If you knew what they’ve done to your people, perhaps this would’ve gone a different way entirely. But sadly, you don’t know. At least you get to die believing in your own righteousness, while I must die knowing how ugly both races truly are.”

  His arm whipped forward, driving the knife through the creature's eye and piercing its brain. A few moments later, it stopped struggling and slumped to the ground.