NOVEL NEXT Chapter 21: Strategies
Svetlana sat in Plynx’s spaceship, alongside those of her girlfriends who hadn’t been taken hostage. It was the safest place in the city with a Kobaroic cruiser sitting in Bayfront Park. The small ship had a stealth field ready and was built out of stronger material than anything humanity could make.
At the moment, they were watching the broadcast the Kobaroians were broadcasting on all television frequencies, on repeat. Svetlana was trying to see if she could figure anything out.
The screen was showing her parents, Augusta, and the Mynx system sitting on a bench with several Kobaroian soldiers standing to either side, and the queen of the Koboroians standing behind the hostages, relaying the ultimatum. Svetlana had half a galactic day, 14 hours and 37 minutes Earth time, to surrender herself before the Kobaroians took further steps.
What those further steps might be, Svetlana didn’t know, and didn’t really want to know.
“How bad would surrendering be, exactly?” Svetlana asked, as she looked over at one of the monitors displaying the Kobaroic cruiser sitting in the park.
It looked pretty intimidating.
“You, Svetlana-dearest, would likely face the life imprisonment, while the Kobaroians-enemies would hunt for an alternative claimant to the throne,” Plynx explained. “My sisters are also unlikely to be freed, being saved for a hostage exchange down the line. The Kobaroians might well find an excuse to properly invade the earth if they feel we-Issiod’rians had been firmly removed.”
Svetlana nodded. “Alright. So, that’s not good. How do we get on the ship, though?”
“That is the easiness,” Plynx replied. “My ship is a stealth unit. I could fly us-all over and find an access point. But… past that…”
“There are dozens of Kobaroian soldiers on board, along with hundreds of combat drones,” O’tmyil explained. “Even if everyone here were fitted with members of my line of combat suits, it would be a difficult battle. Especially as Queen Bockarza Kreck is wearing O’ktaubr… my brother, and the former battle suit of the head of the Imperial Guard during the Second Dynasty.”
Svetlana looked back at the screen and noticed the similarities in the alien queen’s powersuit to how O’tmyil looked in her own suit mode.
“What if we snuck into the queen’s room? Could we potentially overpower her and take her hostage?” Thisbe asked, from where she had been sitting quietly.
“No,” O’tmyil replied. “As long as Queen Bockarza is in her suit she will win that fight.”
“Is O’k—your brother that much better than you?” Svetlana asked, realising she might mispronounce the other alien AI’s name.
O’tmyil looked offended. “Of course not. We were built to identical parameters, and I have more combat experience.”
“So then…” Svetlana asked, trailing off.
“Svetlana, I love you, but you must understand that if you and a Kobaroian were to fight unarmed you would be flattened. As O’ktaubr and myself are equals, then it is effectively that same power imbalance,” O’tmyil replied.
“Ah. Right. Right… big strong aliens,” Svetlana muttered, turning back to look at the screen playing the demands video. The Kobaroians on screen were all around 2m tall and built like tanks.
“So, we needed to get the enemy leader to lower her defenses,” Thisbe replied, a hand on her chin. “If we can figure that out, a two pronged infiltration would be the best move. One group going after the queen, the other group rescuing the hostages. You would want to fully tip the imbalance, so it doesn’t just end up a case of seeing who can be worse to their prisoners.”
“That is smart, Thisbe-partner,” Plynx said.
“I learned the hard way during the war… the Kobaroians give me the impression of being less vile than the enemies we faced then, but I still want to play it safe,” Thisbe said, her eyes going distant for a few moments. “Wait, O’tmyil. You could transform into a Kobaroian, couldn’t you?”
“In theory, yes, but I need permission before I can copy a face. That is hardwired into my programming,” the holographic alien replied.
“A specific face, sure. But, could you turn into you
, but if you were a Kobaroian?” Thisbe asked.“Oh. I… yes,” O’tmyil said with a nod, before beginning to glow
After a moment of bright light, she had grown to the size of a Kobaroian, Svetlana looking up as she towered over them at least two hundred centimetres in height without the added height of the large horn on her forehead. She’d added substantial bulk as well.
“You have got to do that again in a less stressful situation,” Svetlana said, her heart aflutter despite the worry about her parents, Augusta, and the Mynx girls.
“That works. We could have Svetlana pretend to get captured. It might give us enough of an element of surprise to have a chance?” Thisbe said, turning to O’tmyil for further input.
“It might.”
“Only there is a problem,” Plynx said. “They-enemies know O’tmyil-friend is capable of transforming. O’ktaubr and the rest of O’tmyil-friend’s ‘siblings’ in Kobaroic territory present as Kobaroians now. They would be suspicious of a single guard if Svetlana-dearest is not in armour.”
The others deflated at the news, trying to go back to the drawing board. Only, Svetlana was staring at the video again. The royal guard wore capes, so you could really only see the parts of their tails in armour. More importantly, though…
“One of those guards doesn’t have a horn,” Svetlana said, pointing at the screen.
“Mhm? Kobaroian horns do not grow in until after they have otherwise reached their maturity,” Plynx replied. “Young Queen Bockarza’s has not yet fully grown. There is a brief window where they are adults and yet do not yet have their horns.”
Svetlana smiled. “Then, I think we can still make Thisbe’s plan work.”
“How?” Plynx asked.
Svetlana turned to her one suitor who hadn’t said much due to a lack of relevant experience.
“Me?” Vivian asked.
O’tmyil gave a nod. “You’re on the short end for a Kobaroian, but one of their power suits should fit you. It wouldn’t be too hard for me to override a basic suit to give you access if we can manage to take down a couple guards.”
“Which should be easy between Svetlana-dearest and myself,” Plynx said.
The brig of the alien ship was more spacious than Karyna Fujikawa had expected. That made sense, though, with how big the aliens holding them hostage were. It also explained why the furniture inside was a bit too large. She supposed she felt a bit like a child thanks to that.
Not that it was a moment of carefreely connecting to her inner child. Her husband was still asleep, she had a hangover, Augusta was pouting, and the Mynx girls seemed to be changing out every few minutes, going by the way their bracelet switched colours. Karyna had to suspect that was tiring.
“Are you… chewing on the bars, dear?” Karyna asked after Zyn had run around the cell for a bit in another burst of feline energy.
“It relieves stress,” the alien girl probably replied, as best as Karyna could tell while the girl had her teeth wrapped around one of the plastic-like bars.
Before Karyna could come up with any sort of a reply, the door to the containment area opened. The noise caused Zyn to jump straight in the air and cling to the ceiling with her claws.
The door had opened for the alien queen, who was once again wearing that strange armour that reminded Karyna of Svetlana’s… armour? Girlfriend? She still wasn’t sure how to classify the blue alien girl sometimes. Especially not right now. Her brain was too distracted and tired.
“I trust you all are well?” the alien queen, looking down at them.
And then realising where Zyn was and looking up at her with mild confusion.
“It’s only been a couple hours, nothing’s changed,” Augusta muttered.
“Mhm,” the queen mumbled, eyes still on Zyn. “Can… can you get down from there alri—why are you even up there?”
“We-three are fine,” Zyn said, turning her head in what was no doubt an effort to seem aloof, but didn’t quite work while dangling upside down.
“May I… may I ask what will happen to us if my daughter doesn’t surrender in time?” Karyna asked, disliking being in the dark.
“Ah! Do not worry,” the large alien woman said, eyes lighting up with pride of some sort. “I am on a mission of peace, not war. We have advanced enough computer imaging effects to convince her there have been consequences while doing no actual damage… as long as you all behave yourselves.”
“Why should we believe that?” Augusta asked, getting to her feet and attempting to stare down the alien queen.
“The Emergency Authority wishes to rebuild the Galactic Empire. We have no reason to engage in needless antagonism. By acquiring Lady O’tmyil, we will be in a position to find our own candidate for the Imperial throne, and the wayward powers of the Galaxy will see the error of their ways,” the queen explained, before laughing heartily with her eyes still lit up with joy.
Zyn hopped down from the ceiling, looking rather unimpressed. “She-enemy might mean it now, but you never know when a Kobaroian will change their mind. They put defending their ‘herd’ above all honour.”
“What about Sveta, will she be safe?” Karyna asked, hoping that Zyn was wrong.
The alien queen gave a shrug, seeming to show indifference, though the way her clubbed tail began wagging gave a bit of a different impression. “If she tries to fight me, I might have to rough her up a little, but nothing excessive.”
“She’s… not the sharpest, is she?” Augusta muttered towards Zyn.
“Kobaroians have small brains relative to their body sizes,” Zyn replied with a nod.
The large woman spun around, leaning down to glare at Zyn, her forehead horn poking through the bars of their cell. “Only because we have a large body size, little Issiod’rian.”
“Mhm,” Augusta muttered. “Either way, will we be given some food soon? I am rather hungry.”
“Oh, it should—ow,” the alien queen groaned, having begun to turn her head to face Augusta and banged her horn against the bars of the cell.
Standing up, the alien woman rubbed her horn and forehead, letting out a few more sad pained noises before shifting back into her more confident pose from before. “Food will be served shortly.”
She then stormed out of the room.
Zyn gave a smile and shrug. “See? Small brains.”
“She’s actually an idiot,” Augusta muttered, before her face went red. “And it’s adorable. Oooh! Si mignonne! Je veux—”
At that point Karyna’s limited understanding of French fell behind the rapid and flustered release of Augusta’s emotions. The princess also started peppering in German (which Karyna followed even less of) and Russian (which was much easier for Karyna to understand, but was far sparser).
“Little Tsesarevna, I am glad for you understanding your sexuality, but you really don’t have to crush on every woman you meet now,” Karyna said.
The French woman froze, hanging her head in embarrassment. “I do not… it is just that I am weak for tall strong women… especially those who are kind of idiots sometimes… um, no offence to your daughter.”
“I suppose I can’t really take any. Sveta didn’t realise she was a girl until after being turned into one after all,” Karyna replied.
The room under city hall was dimly lit, police and military personnel shouting away into phones as the mayor chewed on a pen. There was an alien warship parked right outside his city’s downtown. It was bad enough that alien robots kept doing damage to city infrastructure and local businesses, but now… this?
Couldn’t they have gone to Toronto or something? It had been nice when that other fight happened in Niagara Falls. It was a weight off his mind. But, no. It was back to business as usual with those darned obnoxious aliens.
He turned to the one man in the room who looked calm, a suit from some government agency he’d never even heard of before. Whoever this ‘Agent Lee’ man was, though, the military deferred to him, so he seemed to be in charge.
“What happens if this spirals? Fujikawa and hi—her motley band of friends never seem to care about what they do to my—the poor city… does the army stand a chance?” he asked.
The man produced a tube of yoghurt, before turning to the mayor. “I trust Svetlana will do what’s best, but, if not, and things do go sideways, I have my friend in Halifax on speed dial. Don’t worry.”
Agent Lee then opened the yoghurt tube and downed the contents, somehow looking calm and professional while eating what was really a snack for children.
Not that the mayor was paying much attention. He remembered what had happened in Halifax a few years back. The mess that had woken up the rest of the world to aliens being real. And the news coverage showing craters and destruction.
There was no way he’d get re-elected if Hammer City turned into another Battle of Halifax.