1
September 15, 2429
Retari System
Atlantica
Kyler hit the water in his arrowhead late, well behind the other Archons who were already outside the hangar bay, and locked the flat topside panel in place by means of a switch on the right side control stick. It retracted down into place and sealed itself flush with the rest of the small craft, fully concealing the trailblazer’s armored body inside, then the control jets fired up and began pumping water out behind where his feet were set against a pair of foot pedals, allowing him to adjust the thrust levels and skillfully arc a curve through the bay and hit the first containment shield at decent speed.
The shield, designed to hold back water, allowed the arrowhead through once sufficient pressure was applied, causing a jolt in the craft that did not have inertial dampening technology. It was little more than a water mongoose and barely twice the length of the land version, flat like a knife and light enough that Kyler could have picked it up out of the water using nothing but his bare hands.
That light weight and angular design also allowed it to be very fast, so after he suffered through another jolt exiting through the second shield in the waterlock, he was able to punch the throttle and accelerate up to near torpedo speed as he tore off from the side of Manaan towards the infantry battles occurring at now three points inside the perimeter fence…the third of which had prompted him to abandon the command nexus and get into the fray himself, given how outnumbered they were.
In the six days since the initial attack on the city’s defenses, all 6 defense towers had been taken down and the littered remains of the lizard ships that had accomplished it were spread out on the seafloor next to the Star Force debris. Kyler had been both amazed and intrigued that the lizards could bring as many ships to bear as they had, with more continuing to arrive via water from locations unknown.
The Nautilus, Highwind, Dutchman, and Black Pearl were all tucked inside the perimeter fence, guarding over the 110 square miles of seafloor as the bulk of the lizard fleet was stationed outside. They’d made several raids over the past few days, some up the gauntlet approach where the fence overlapped, others through breach points they’d created in the gigantic metallic monstrosity, but none were successful in doing damage to either the city or the battleships given their shield column plasma cannons.
Had the fence not been in place that would have been another story, but since it was forcing them to attack piecemeal the assault had essentially come to a standoff, with the lizards circling around the besieged city and continually probing the defenses, trying to find a way to either bring the fence down or to damage one of the battleships from range, which they’d attempted to do with onslaughts of torpedoes fired through the gaps in the wire-like barrier. The Dutchman had taken hull damage from one of those assaults when it ran out of PDM, but given the amount of damage the shields soaked up before breaching, too few torpedoes remained to seriously hurt the gigantic ship.
But give the lizards an inch and they’d try to take a mile, and once the Dutchman was wounded they began to try and repeat the effort, getting resupplied from underwater convoys carrying ammunition and bringing more ships into the fold, as well as some aerial drops that made it through the city’s limited defenses. Manaan still had skeets to deploy in response, but when anything large came their way and naval warships weren’t in range to intercept, the lizards would get their supplies through.
Some of those supplies came in the form of infantry pods delivering thousands of the swimming lizards into the campaign, and although the enemy hadn’t given up on taking out the battleships through coordinated torpedo strikes through the fence, they were circumventing the battleships’ primary advantage by exploiting its weakness…which was their inability to track small targets with their plasma cannons, meaning a mass of infantry could literally walk right underneath one of the battleships and only lose a few in number to lucky shots.
In fact, that seemed to be their choice of attack now, for they were launching the largest infantry invasion to date. Thousands of the little swimmers were crossing the perimeter fence at now 3 locations, all intent on getting into the city’s auxiliary structures and doing what damage they could. Whether that meant external explosions or actually boarding the city Kyler didn’t know, but with so many in the water they needed all the Archons they could get to thin their numbers that were quickly overwhelming what interior turret defenses the city had left.
Once outside of the main building Kyler followed a group of arrowheads that were already halfway to the eastern boundary where a pair of frigates were trying to stop the flood of infantry coming through at a point more than a kilometer inside the fence line, otherwise the Star Force ships would draw too much weaponsfire from the surrounding lizard ships eagerly awaiting a chance to get to the interior. They’d lost several ships over the past few days when they’d responded to breach attempts, and while they’d been successful in stopping those ships cutting into the fence, they’d taken significant losses of their own, resulting in several wrecks of ships having to be abandoned.
On the battlemap Kyler saw that part of the lizards were taking up residence under some of that debris on the seafloor, using it as a shield against the pair of frigates that were pumping out PDM at everything they could see. The tiny missiles were in high demand right now, with the factories inside Manaan producing replacement ammunition as fast as possible to counter the lizards’ attempts to disarm Star Force by weapon attrition. Once again they didn’t seem to care how many lives they lost, so long as they could do some damage in the process.
A flashing light on his battlemap, which was located inside his helmet rather than in the craft itself given the tiny confines, indicated that another link in the fence had been cut, opening up a slightly larger hole for reinforcements to come through. Kyler knew that it’d take a square of four being removed to allow a corvette through, and even then that was a squeeze.
In response to the flashing, a tiny sliver of a shield column extended out to that point on the fence from the Nautilus, then several flashes of plasma passed through it, lighting up the ocean in tiny blue streaks from Kyler’s point of view, and impacted the lizard frigate on the other side that had been blasting away at the fence with a series of short range torpedo strikes.
The enemy contact went out after some additional pounding, but the small damage to the fence remained and Kyler knew the enemy was playing a long chess match towards the destruction of the city, with every little nick in the fence putting them one step closer to attaining their penetration goals.
Kyler wasn’t going to let them play that game, however, and as he watched the continually updating battlemap as he zipped his way across the large internal ocean space that the fence had sectioned off from the rest of the waterworld, he saw the Highwind rise up and disappear from the map, leaving the other three battleships to patrol and protect the base from the inside.
A few minutes later it came back down outside the fence, dropping in on top of a fleet of lizard ships in the southeast…where none of the infantry were coming from. It hit a section of the enemy armada that had thought it was safe, and one that contained many transports. When the giant battleship began to submerge into the water overhead, the lizards had a choice…stand their ground or run.
Given how many ships there were at that location and nearby, the lizards opted to fight, as the Captain had hoped. Kyler hadn’t ordered him to make the maneuver, but he’d encouraged all the battleship Captains to be aggressive in their defense and to not let the enemy get to feeling as if they owned the perimeter.
Even as the Highwind had barely gotten submerged Kyler knew it was going to come away damaged…but therein lay their advantage. Though it moved slowly, the battleship was also an airship and could retreat from an underwater battle by going up into the air and flying away, making it very hard for the lizards to kill one unless they had aerial support, which at the moment they did not. In truth, Manaan would already have been lost if it hadn’t been for the presence of the 4 battleships, but so long as they were on site and the perimeter fence was holding off an onslaught, it was going to be very hard for the lizards to destroy or captured the Star Force city, and that was one advantage that Kyler intended to milk as much as possible.
The battleship Captains knew it as well, which was why Kyler was glad to see the Highwind redeploying outside the fence to land another gut busting blow to the enemy and eat up more of their ships to compensate for those reinforcements still coming in. After the first two days of the engagement he’d sent Vander off on a reconnaissance mission, hoping that he could quietly backtrack where the lizards were coming from, and he hoped that as long as the besieging forces continued to receive support that meant Vander was getting closer and closer to pinpointing at least one of their transitional bases nearby.
Let the lizards get too many ships on site and they’d be in for a nightmare of problems, thus it was necessary to thin their numbers when they could, just as the Highwind was beginning to do now. Kyler watched the battlemap briefly, then turned his attention to the engagement ahead of him as he approached the location where the other 13 arrowheads were zipping about across the seafloor and tagging what infantry they could as what looked like a mass of ants was swimming its way further inside the perimeter.
The column of ‘ants’ broke up at the ship debris, pooling underneath it before branching off in multiple strands and small groups, making it hard to pin them all to one location. These lizards, fortunately, weren’t wearing stealth suits, so they showed up on sensors from a considerable distance, allowing Kyler to pick out a small group ahead of the others and zoom in towards it, with a jet of high pressure water propelling him and his arrowhead through the dark depths where the sunlight couldn’t reach.
Given that he was the only arrowhead near this lizard group he didn’t turn on his exterior running lights, nor had the lizards powered up their plasma rods or legionnaire shields, but he could clearly see them on sensors, giving him an advantage. Maintaining a high speed he flicked on the V-shaped band around the arrowhead’s front edge and charged it with stun energy, then adjusted his heading as he picked out a single lizard amongst the 8 ahead of him.
He rammed it less than a second after it flicked on its plasma rod, apparently having heard him coming. It careened off the side, doubled over at the midsection as the impact simultaneously broke its back as well as stunning it unconscious. Kyler turned to the right and clipped another in the arm before exiting out the back of the group. He flipped the arrowhead on its side then bent the machine at the waist, arcing it back around and searching for his next target.
The other lizards’ lights suddenly flashed on, both from their plasma rods and the forearm length shield gauntlets that they held out in front of them. They swam together and huddled up into a group, extending their plasma rods out between their shields to zap the arrowhead should it try to ram them again.
Kyler slowed his speed as he programmed the autopilot to make a simple out and back maneuver, then he hit a button that sucked out the air in the compartment into a container while flooding it with seawater. Inside his armor Kyler didn’t notice the change, other than seeing it on his faceplate, then when the indicator panel informed him that there were no longer any remaining bubbles to give away his presence he cracked the cover partway open and pushed himself out the back near to where his foot pedals were, hand climbing/propelling himself out as the arrowhead continued to move forward under its own power, compensating for the drag of the half-open compartment.
The Archon got caught in the jet wash and shoved back away from the arrowhead even as he activated his own much smaller jets on his legs and forearms, lowering himself in the water while he moved forward, intent on coming up at the lizards from below as the arrowhead passed over top of them. As he closed he reached his hands inside the cover on his back and pulled out one of two needler pistols and powered it up, but kept his arms tucked against his sides to maintain a smooth trajectory.
The arrowhead succeeded in buzzing the 6 lizards, getting their attention and keeping it as it executed the preprogrammed U-turn and started heading back towards them to make another pass, thoroughly distracting them enough that Kyler was able to swim up underneath them and fire up at their webbed feet.
He held off until he was only a few meters away, then put a laser dot on one towards the center that was holding a shield up high to cover their topside and fired straight up into the mess of legs, seeing a puff of compressed water move out to obscure the group as the water was explosively knocked away to produce a short lived vacuum/vapor sphere that the 5 remaining lizards got pulled back into after having their formation knocked apart.
One of them was injured from the explosion, having been next to the one that was now missing its pelvis. Kyler cringed at the gruesome damage, but pushed the thought aside. He didn’t like messy kills, but he didn’t have much choice at the moment…though in two more meters he would.
The trailblazer didn’t fire again, but instead jetted his way up into the midst of the lizards, grabbing one’s plasma rod out of its hand in the confusion and jabbing it into another. The green plasma glowing in its tip discharged into the water lizard’s head, burning out a section of its brain in less than a second, though a plume of bubbles disguised the point of impact briefly.
Two down, four to go.
As Kyler spun the rod around as quickly as he could considering the water drag, the green tip reformed and he jabbed it towards another lizard, but the thing got its shield moved in time and the plasma impacted it, discharging on contact and weakening the shield considerably.
Another PDM from the needler blew apart what coordination the other lizards were regaining as it detonated again the leg of one to Kyler’s left. During that disruptive compression sphere Kyler got knocked slightly askew, but was able to jab the plasma rod into the shield of the lizard on his right a few more times, fully breaching the energy field.
The tip of the rod slipped past and poked the lizard in the chest, though no plasma was present. Kyler did a double tap and got a little bit to discharge as it built back up, enough to painfully distract the lizard. The Archon dropped the plasma rod and jetted forward, wrapping his arm around the lizard’s neck and spinning it around…right into another plasma rod jabbing towards him.
Using the friendly fire to his advantage, Kyler pushed the now dead lizard back into the others, using his armor’s jets to provide more leverage than the swimmers could, then he shot another PDM in between the group and saw it pop against the center one’s midsection before his view was obscured. When it cleared that lizard was dead and the two nearby were injured, one missing both an arm and a leg.
Kyler grabbed one of the floating and still glowing plasma rods and finished off the survivors with a couple of taps rather than waste his own ammo, then he located his arrowhead, which was floating in place 40 meters off where he’d told it to wait. He swam out to find the remaining unconscious lizard and tagged it once in the chest, then discarded the plasma rod and tucked the needler into the fold on his armor’s back. Kyler jetted over to his arrowhead and climbed inside, sealing himself in then evacuating the water to reduce the craft’s weight. That produced a bit more buoyancy, but once he got moving the shape of the arrowhead would keep him in line due to the deflection angles.
8 lizards down…who knew how many thousands more to go.
Kyler checked his battlemap as soon as his body got back into the arrowhead, looking for his next targets with several to choose from, none of which were nearby…at least not within 30 seconds anyway. The arrowhead was fast, allowing it to cover a lot of water quickly, but the lizards were doing well to scatter past their bit of cover near the downed warships, which was making it difficult for the other 13 arrowheads to get after them as well, though they were mostly focusing on the main flow, trying to take them out while they were still bunched together.
Kyler would have preferred to be there doing that, but right now someone was needed to knock down some of the groups getting past…and there were many of them, too many for him to get them all.
He glanced at the fuel cell gage, which indicated that he had enough power for at least 30 minutes of heavy combat, though it would vary depending on how many stun charges he used and how many little breaks like this he took. Guessing that the other arrowheads were in a similar position, he knew they were going to have to make several round trips, utilizing their speed to move to and from the city while the lizard infantry progressed forward slowly.
He’d just have to whittle down as many as he could, then let the point defenses around the structures thin them down further. To that end he randomly picked another group and jetted off, hoping to ram at least some of the lizard groups out of commission so he wouldn’t have to suffer the delay of getting out and dealing with them hand to hand.
2
Paul replayed the battlemap data from the previous day’s battles in his quarters, just back from a lengthy training session in the Excalibur’s sanctum. The lizards were getting more reinforcements coming in and Star Force had attempted to mine the jumpline from the star with a few heavy objects. They’d delivered them far out in mid orbit and sent them drifting in, with their internal engines keeping the house-sized lumps of metal directly on the line whereas orbital paths would have moved them laterally out of position within minutes.
Star Force had thus tagged that jumpline off limits, with a beacon informing all ships entering the system to avoid that route stationed in orbit around the system’s star. Greg’s fleet was stationed there, escorting incoming convoys and trying to poach lizard ones whenever they entered the system. The beacon was set up as a small space station that transmitted constantly, rather than having one of Greg’s ships do it. That way his ships could move about at will, rather than having to guard a fixed point.
The beacon was using a new communications technology, one built from the V’kit’no’sat database rather than reverse engineering the lizards’ interstellar comm tech, that used telaris energy. Star Force was still working on the sensor package, but it had already started to build new ships and facilities with telaris comm systems, as well as producing upgrade packages for the others. The key value in telaris energy was that, unlike an accelerating signal, it naturally traveled at 3.205 times the speed of light.
That wasn’t instantaneous communication across a star system, but it was a considerable improvement over systems that had been relying on various forms of electromagnetic radiation for both communications and sensors. Telaris energy was emitted from riol, a tier 3 subatomic particle that was only present in corovon-bonded atoms. It would pool around the corovon in the gaps between attached protons, then would be dislodged fairly easy, resulting in huge bursts of energy that was very repellant to other matter.
That gave it a huge spring capacity coming off the corovon, resulting in its 3.205 lightspeed instantaneous acceleration. It also meant that the telaris energy would be deflected rather than absorbed by most substances, making for some very fast and very powerful sensors. Paul and others hoped that it would overcome the lizards’ sensor dampening armor, but to date the techs hadn’t got a viable sensor array prototype worked out, though they were getting close.
The comm system was crude, but functional, and was allowing Paul and Greg to exchange information faster. If the lizards were quick they could still enter the system from a specific jumpline and get to Atlantica before Greg could send word if the navigational angles were favorable, given that the planets were continuously rotating around the star and changing their relative positions to the incoming stellar jumplines the lizards seemed to favor.
The other day Paul’s fleet had got a heads up that another lizard convoy was incoming, one that Greg’s fleet hadn’t been able to intercept. With the kinetic ‘mines’ in place in low orbit, where they were essentially hovering on their gravity drives, Paul had moved some drone warships into more favorable positions to intercept the convoy once it arrived.
The lizards came out of their jump early, decelerating most of their momentum away before they crossed through the mine field…which only contained 119 objects. That was a very diffuse net, but given the size of the lizard jumpships it was probable that at least one would get hit.
Two had, punching deep into the hulls on 2 out of the 16 that had arrived. At least part of their gravity drives had been damaged, for the last bit of their deceleration was delayed, pushing them out ahead of the others, and fortuitously for Star Force saw one ramming another on a deflection angle, sending both damaged ships spinning about on a descending route down towards Atlantica’s atmosphere.
To the lizards’ credit, they managed to stall out their fall and keep the damaged ships in space, though the wounds were extensive. With all three jumpships out of the position they had expected to be, Paul’s fleet, which was technically all ships in orbit despite which Archon’s warship they came from, had pounced on them in their damaged state and killed all three, but not before the other lizard ships could respond, including one of the newly arrived jumpships that was a carrier containing a slew of cruisers and a pair of battleships.
It was that battle that Paul was now reviewing, not to mention the cleanup effort the lizards made on the other mines. They couldn’t vaporize them, and breaking them up into bits was hazardous to navigation as well, so after locating the others…which had been sensor stealthed…they used some of their jumpships to capture and remove them from the jumpline, as well as shooing away battle debris down into a lower orbit that was even now starting to tickle the atmosphere and drop into the oceans below.
The chess match in orbit was getting more and more complex. While Paul and the other trailblazers were learning more about their enemy, the lizards were doing the same with them in a punch/counterpunch timeline that saw both fleets improving their strategy while the lizards and Star Force continued to run supplies down to the war taking place on the planet below. Every now and then Paul would be able to catch a lizard supply run and disrupt it, forcing them to either turn back before they got to the atmosphere or destroying them as they attempted the insertion.
Those that did drop down consistently went to the backside of the planet where Star Force had no infrastructure…then the supplies/reinforcements would make their way beneath the waves where the Humans’ sensors couldn’t track off to who knows where, then it would eventually end up on Kyler’s doorstep, as it was doing right now.
Paul had forced himself to stop watching the live battlemap feeds from below, focusing on the naval confrontation and his training. Kyler had told him he’d request evac if they needed it, otherwise there wasn’t anything he could do to help other than trying to keep more lizard resources from reaching the planet.
He had insured that the airspace over Manaan stayed clear of enemy warships, keeping small capital ship groups close in orbit that could drop down if/when needed, and so far the lizards had respected that threat and kept their assault subsurface where Paul couldn’t get at them. That way, at least he could provide a secure evacuation route for the city. Thankfully Manaan didn’t contain any colonists, but there were thousands of Star Force personnel inside, and if the city was going to fall they would be hard pressed to pack them all into the battleships and would need the aerial route kept open.
The orbital situation was less strenuous, mainly because Paul was successfully chewing up the lizard reinforcements as fast as they could send them. Earth was supplying them with new fleets as soon as they came out of the shipyards, all with upgraded weapons technology, primary of which was the mauler cannons, but they were also fielding better plasma and lachar batteries along with higher densities of adamantium armor. Paul never knew what the next convoy would contain, but Davis had yet failed to disappoint him.
With those incoming resources, part of which were meant for the aquatics front, Paul was overseeing the construction of a 4th battle station in the shadow of the other 3 where the lizards couldn’t get at it, though they had attempted a few hit and run raids which the fleet had successfully blocked. Right now he had 1 strong point in orbit and he intended to spread that out to two, but whether he could do that by splitting the stations into pairs or not was still up in the air. Most of it had to do with the lizards’ capabilities, of which he was trying to get a handle on.
In some respects he understood them very well…in others, they seemed almost like the Borg from Star Trek, in that they would adapt to whatever he threw at them. Their commanders were probably from the strategic class, though with lizard naval crews he could never be sure. Sometimes they were comprised totally of the standard variant, which were devious enough, but he knew they also had the ability to grow specialized commanders when needed.
There were 11 known variants, of which they’d personally encountered 6, now that they’d met their swimming version, but Star Force had the genetics profile on all of them, thanks to the battles on Corneria and the copycat version of lizard infrastructure they’d produced from the technological ‘seeds’ they’d recovered. They hadn’t grown any new lizards to study, though they maintained that capability. Rather, they had medtechs pouring through their genetic code trying to learn what they could.
One thing they’d learned was that they were all sterile. Not one of the lizards could reproduce, for that ability had been genetically removed from them. They now reproduced totally through technological means, which also gave them the ability to increase their numbers rapidly if they had the resources to do so, as they were doing now on Atlantica. Their achilles heel had always been having enough raw materials to build ships, but somehow they were also overcoming that hurdle, given the numbers Kyler was facing at Manaan.
The lizards had tried setting up other bases in the system, given that there were 18 planets. None of them were habitable, but most were minable, and several small engagements had been fought to weed infant lizard bases off those worlds before they could gain a foothold. At present Sam’s fleet was patrolling the system, scanning every planet and moon periodically and dealing with any new infrastructure popping up, for they knew from experience that they had to keep the lizards resupplying from outside the star system. If they gained a resource base from within, it would be very difficult to overcome their growth rate.
The lizards had succeeded in building their own battle station in orbit, though they’d had to cheat to do it. One of the less recent supply convoys had brought a jumpship variant they’d never seen before. This one was covered in weapons and appeared to have few bay doors. It didn’t match any schematic in the known lizard tech tree, and after some careful prodding Paul had determined that it was essentially a mobile battle station.
The lizards used it like Star Force had used the seda copies, establishing a foothold that their fleets could base themselves around…except that the lizard station didn’t have the firing range of Star Force’s cleansing beams. After a two week period of cat and mouse engagements, Paul had succeeded in destroying the jumpship/base and removing the lizards’ strong point from orbit, costly as it had been.
Even now, as he watched the replay of yesterday’s battle, he could see the weapon strikes against his ships deliberately targeting their weakest points rather than just blasting away at their shields and armor as the lizards had once done. Likewise his gunners were targeting the critical systems on the lizards’ ships, now knowing exactly where to hit them, not just because they had their schematics available, but because both sides were now well experienced with their opposition.
Star Force, Paul assumed, had more of an advantage due to the fact that they weren’t cycling personnel like the lizards were, for every ship they destroyed required a new crew being grown, whereas the drone ships in Paul’s fleet had the same pilots flying them no matter how many were destroyed…so long as the lizards didn’t knock out a warship, which to date was something that Paul had not allowed to happen here, though he had heard that Morgan had lost one fighting the Nestafar.
Some of the regular crew had begun to label this conflict as the forever war, for they couldn’t see an outcome on the horizon…other than Star Force capitulating and abandoning the system. Paul and the other trailblazers had an entirely different view. Where others saw an insurmountable and unrelenting enemy, the Archons saw a challenge…and the bigger the challenge the more they wanted to face it rather than run away, making this just the situation Paul wanted to be in rather than guarding Namek as it continued to grow its infrastructure oblivious to the lizards.
Well, not totally oblivious, for the supply convoys running to Atlantica were coming from there and the lizards had backtracked them, but they hadn’t done more than scout the system, seeing that Star Force was well dug in on the planet. Namek, though, was less close to existing lizard colonies, with Atlantica practically on their doorstep. Paul and the others had planned on defending both locations, though they’d hoped the lizards would focus on the waterworld.
Now that they’d gotten their wish, the enemy wasn’t disappointing. They were drawing an unbelievable amount of resources off from their main territory, resources that could have been sent to fight their allies. That said, Paul knew what they were facing here was merely a drop in the bucket compared to the total military might the lizards possessed.
The sheer amount of their warships was mindboggling, but what Paul had learned early on is that if you had a lot of territory to defend, you had to spread your fleet out. That meant the lizards couldn’t just pick up their massive fleet and pound it all against a single world. Given the distances involved they had to leave defenses in all their systems else risk losing them to a handful of enemy ships. Even with their considerably quick gravity drives, getting from one end of their territory to another could take more than a year, depending on the route.
Paul wished that Star Force could one day possess that amount of territory, not just for the resources and capabilities it would afford them, but for the challenge of managing it all. Their allies all had far greater realms than the Humans did, and they didn’t all do the best in managing them. It was hard to think of an entire planet being lost in accounting, but when you had thousands of them spread out across this piece of the galaxy with little communication between them…it wasn’t all that uncommon.
Which made the V’kit’no’sat’s much larger empire all the more impressive.
Paul finished watching the replay, seeing nothing new tactically, but he always preferred studying his enemy directly rather than being handed a spec manual, especially given the lizards adaptive abilities. Those in this system could very well behave differently than those in others, based solely on what they were learning here. Paul didn’t know how much they’d transmit that knowledge back to the rest of their empire, given that they’d have to do it in the form of couriers, so really his fight wasn’t with the whole of the lizard empire, but this local branch of it.
He flipped back over to the realtime battlemap and checked the position of the lizard fleets, noting that Oni-081 had repositioned some of her heavier warships further out. It took Paul all of four seconds to figure out why, then another two seconds to deduce the lizards’ probable countermove.
This was how their chess match was usually played out on a day to day basis. Both fleets would reposition, attempting to pull off supply runs, catch incoming convoys, or draw the enemy fleet into a formational weakness they could exploit. Paul had come to nickname his lizard counterpart Thrawn, and saw that it/them were breaking up their largest fleet and spreading it out into multiple appendages, each on a different trajectory.
“Here we go again,” he whispered, knowing that this was standard practice when the lizards wanted to run a convoy down to the surface. Each of the tendrils had cargo ships in them, and picking which one to intercept was mostly guesswork, unless they knew which ones had the goods and which ones were empty.
He had no clue in this go around, and very possibly they were all full given the recently arrived reinforcements…but Paul sensed that Thrawn was being cagey again, expecting Star Force to see their move and likewise reinforce their extreme low orbit fleets, readying themselves to make intercept runs at anything heading down to the surface.
Thrawn should have kept the rest of his ships stationary, but several of them were creeping into new formations, tipping their hand. Paul saw that he had no choice, given their current locations were outside of effective range from a hit and run on the outermost defense fleet that Emily commanded.
Oni saw it too, which was why she was moving her heavy cruisers out further, not all the way up to Emily’s orbit, but close enough to cut down the response time should the lizards make the move.
Paul looked at the hundreds of ship icons on the small hologram in his quarters like pieces on a chess board, then let a smile creep across his face as he saw a move that he was sure Thrawn was trying for. Ever since they’d launched their main underwater assault they’d been getting bolder in orbit, for what he hadn’t known, since the two campaigns were more or less separate entities, but if Paul’s instincts were right, in a few hours time their partially constructed battle station was going to get blasted.
Paul opened up a comm channel to the three battle stations and delivered a text message.
Prep for incoming assault. Probable target is the 4th station. Quietly bring up to full battle readiness. We have a counterattack possibility that I don’t want to waste.
3
A group of 3 lizards swam along the polished seafloor inside the Manaan perimeter fence headed for the large underwater mount that was the Humans’ shipyard. It was totally contained inside an armored shell, with the unfinished battleship obscured from view, but the det pack one of the lizards was carrying was about to make a dent in it.
The trio swam along lazily, along with more than 10,000 others already inside the perimeter fence and spreading out on so many different routes that the Humans couldn’t get to them all. They all had their preferred targets, with secondary options if they couldn’t reach them, but so far this group hadn’t so much as even seen a Human craft near them.
They swam up towards the base of the shipyard where the slightly angled wall met the stone seafloor, with the escorting pair drifting laterally and falling back as the det pack carrier eyed his spot on the dark wall. It didn’t know if the explosion would breach the barrier or not. If it did they would move inside. If it didn’t, they’d wait until another group came their way and added to the damage, defending their entry point as more lizard groups pooled outside.
As the lizard with the det pack swam up to the base of the building it pulled the explosives off its back, intent on setting them in position and triggering a delay timer, but it noticed a faint line in the silt a meter out from the building just before passing over it…then it smashed head first into the defense shield surrounding the shipyard.
Unaware that the building had been shielded, the lizard reached out its webbed hand and ran it over the odd surface of the invisible energy shield, but without enough pressure to make it visible from the disruption. For that it had to bring its plasma rod forward and jab it into the invisible wall, discharging its green load into the shield matrix and producing a meter-wide patch of momentary static.
It wasn’t nearly enough to penetrate the defenses, but it did confirm the fact that it existed.
Unsure how to proceed, the lizard used the small comm device strapped to its head to report the presence of the energy barrier and ask for instructions in a water dialect of their native language that adjusted for their inability to use their vocal chords without air, instead having to rely on a genetic modification inside the roof of their mouths to modulate sound within the water.
The reply wasn’t swift in coming, leaving the three lizards floating in place up against the enemy structure as another group swam up behind them, only 20 or so meters further west and diverted to join them. By the time a strategy had been formed their small group had grown to 18 in number, with 4 det packs amongst them.
Then as one they all received new instructions via their comm units and they began swimming away from the shipyard towards one of the smaller enemy buildings that did not have defensive shields. Apparently only their largest two did, meaning they could access the others and the connecting tunnels beneath and use them to gain access to the primary targets.
Like a school of slow moving fish the lizard infantry redeployed as more around them were snatched up by the quick moving Human craft. By luck or sheer numbers the group of 18, which had now grown to 22 as it picked up another bunch enroute, made it across the gap to a moderately small building rising up some three stories above the seafloor and stretching out across it for a considerable distance.
Using a series of chirps the lizards coordinated with each other and the first one swam up and set its det pack at the base, hoping to use the seafloor to concentrate the blast into the structure, though in truth it wasn’t sure how strong it was. It swam off, with the others even further back forming a small semi-circle, and waited for the brief delay to expire.
The det pack exploded with a muted ‘thump,’ kicking up a cloud of silt in the process. As soon as the ripple reach the lizards the next one began swimming towards the target and placed its det pack in the crater the first explosion had left, which had done as much damage to the rock as it had the wall. The lizard wedged it in the best it could, set the timer, and swam off.
When it blew a third moved in, and with its detonation contained even further inside the growing crater it succeeded in cracking the outer wall, allowing a bit of water to begin leaking inside.
The fourth det pack then punched a hole in the side large enough to begin draining in water with considerable suction. The waiting lizards without det packs swam forward, staggered, and let the flow grab them and pull them through the small breach. They landed inside in what looked like white water rapids as the ocean water flowed from one chamber into another before it leveled out enough for the first of them to find their feet and stand up, finally opening the flap over their air breathing lungs and sucking in the Human atmosphere.
With their plasma rods held at their sides, glowing bright even underneath the Human lights, they began working their way through the flooding areas looking for enemies to kill.
“Go, go, go!” Uma-19448 shouted at the techs running through the corridors to her position near the entrance to the subterranean tunnels that connected the processing center to the other buildings around Manaan, five of which contained routes straight into the main building of the city. Already there was a couple of inches of water around the Archon’s feet, with the running techs splashing up a storm as another explosion was heard from inside the building.
Twenty seconds later a surge of water made its way to her position, knocking two techs off their feet and dunking their heads in the white water that was now up to her knees.
Uma fought her way through it and yanked one of the techs up, pushing him back towards the entrance to the tunnel.
“How many behind you?” she yelled to be heard over the rushing water that containment fields were fighting to hold back, but the lizards were systematically knocking them out and letting the water precede them further into the building.
“I don’t…know,” the man said, coughing as the other tech climbed to her feet, her long hair stuck to her uniform soaking wet.
“Down,” Uma ordered, pushing the man back a couple of meters. “Deep breath,” she warned before pushing him back another as the rushing water was now up to the red armor on her thighs.
The tech grabbed his nose then fell down as he stepped on a containment shield designed to hold back water and not solid objects. The transition was slow, like he was sinking into sand, but his feet came out into dry air beneath him and quickly found a steep staircase that he stumbled his way down until his head came through and he was able to both breathe and regain his balance.
He walked down the stairs and around a corner, coming out onto what looked like a highway-sized tunnel that led straight to the left and right, with a junction visible not far to the left that a lot of other techs were running down. Not wanting to get left behind he took off after them, stumbling at first in his wet shoes before adjusting and picking up the pace.
“Anyone behind you?” Uma asked the female tech when she got to her.
“At least one,” she said in a controlled panic as the water continued to rise, though it was being stemmed as it drained out into other areas of the building.
The Archon pointed down and the tech nodded, then dove head first into the water and pushed her way through the containment field as Uma fought her way upstream looking for other personnel that had failed to evacuate in time. This wasn’t the first building the lizards had hit, and the evacuation orders had come out a few minutes prior to the hull breach, but there had been a lot of personnel continuing their work refining the raw materials already collected so other factories within the city perimeter could keep making ammunition to feed to the defense forces.
The level 79 adept took a knee in the water near the doorway where the current was the strongest and activated one of her leg jets, helping to propel her through into the corridor as she grabbed the doorjamb for additional leverage. She had plenty of air in her armor, and could produce more oxygen from the water itself if needed, but the techs weren’t so equipped and were in danger of drowning if they didn’t get them all out. They also didn’t have comm units or locator beacons, so she and the few other Archons in the building were having to improvise.
“Anyone out there!” she yelled, using her helmet’s external mic to amplify the sound.
“In here!” a muted response sounded from her left, prompting her to walk/swim that way painfully slow as she fought the current. “Hurry!”
“Trying,” Uma said to herself as she slogged her way down the hall. “Keep talking!”
“In here!” the voice repeated, then a hand shot out into view just above the waterline.
“Got it!” she answered back, dropping down underneath the water and using all four of her jets to plow her way forward, using her toes for additional leverage until she got to the door and ducked into its smaller side current.
When she came up she saw two female techs perched on top of a table, one of which was bleeding and probably unconscious. A door on the opposite side had water flowing out into another section, creating the cross current.
“I couldn’t leave her,” the conscious tech said, crying in addition to the water dripping down her face from her braided blonde hair.
Uma let the current help her along then gripped the side of the table to steady her as she got to the pair…immediately seeing the plasma burn on the prone one’s left leg.
“Is she alive?” Uma asked, not able to feel for a pulse with her gloves on.
“She passed out, but she’s still breathing. I couldn’t get her out the door with the current, and there are lizards that way,” she said, pointing to the far door.
Uma thought that odd, being essentially downstream, but she wasn’t going to argue with the wound on the other woman’s leg.
“Go,” she ordered, picking up the unconscious one and setting her over the armor on her shoulders to keep her head away from the water as much as possible. “To the right. I’ll be behind you.”
Without hesitation the tech jumped into the water and swam against the current, pushing with her feet when they touched bottom up until she got to the door, then she grabbed the wall and leveraged herself outside and into the heavier current.
“Hang to the right and take the next open door,” Uma said, having to fight the water without her jets, but thankful for the extra weight helping to pin her feet to the floor. When she got to the door she reached her right leg out and latched her ankle around the doorjamb, then pivoted the unconscious tech through as the water was now up to chest level. Down the hall she could see the other tech waiting, hanging onto the open doorway.
Uma twisted out into the flow and kept at least one foot in front of her at all times, using it to balance herself upright so she didn’t tip the tech over into the water, knowing how quickly someone could drown when they weren’t conscious to close their mouth and hold their breath against even a little water.
The other tech ducked out of the doorway just before Uma arrived, where the Archon used her left leg jet to nudge herself into the side flow and into a long room that split at the end.
“Stay with me,” Uma said, letting the current carry her down to the other end of the room as the tech latched onto her arm twice for balance.
When they got down to where the containment shield was, Uma swung the tech off her shoulders and held her head above water with an arm latched around her shoulders, but with the rest of her body in the water.
“I need you to close her mouth and hold her nose, we have to go down,” Uma instructed, pointing below them with her free hand. “There’s a shield two steps ahead holding back the water. Keep her lungs clear and I’ll pull you both through, ok?”
“How long…do I have to hold my breath?”
“Less than 10 seconds,” Uma said bringing the two techs together, with the conscious one wrapping the other up in a bear hug.
“Ok,” she said shaking as the water was nearly up to her neckline. The ceiling was high with plenty of air left, but the before long the pressure would start building to painful levels even if they did have air pockets remaining above the doorjambs.
Uma ducked down underneath the waterline so she could see exactly where the shield was and moved over to it, sticking a foot in while gently dragging the pair of techs her way, with the conscious one walking the other through the still flowing water and keeping her upright. When Uma’s legs were partway through the shield and found a stair beneath she tapped the tech’s leg three times…then twice…then once more before pulling both of them down into the water.
Using her weight the Archon pulled both of them down through the shield as fast as possible, dropping them into an uncomfortable fall that she only managed to halfway catch.
Uma immediately got the unconscious one upright and tipped over, then tapped on her back just to make sure she didn’t have any water in her lungs while the other one coughed considerably, probably haven gotten water up her nose or maybe not having understood the tapping countdown.
For good measure Uma picked up the unconscious one off her feet and inverted her for a moment, using gravity to drain any water out of her lungs but apparently the other one had done a good job of keeping it out of her friend, just not herself.
“Let’s go,” she urged, picking the tech up over one shoulder and hurrying down the stairs with the other one following in her footsteps. Once out into the underground tunnel the only people visible in the distance were Archons, one to her left and one further down on the right that ducked out of sight at the same time she heard plasma fire…which meant the lizards were close.
As she jogged with the techs she toggled her battlemap and comm system, identifying who that Archon was.
“You got lizard trouble?” she asked Jaden-11833, another adept who’d gotten internal security duty while the acolytes were busy fighting the lizards outside.
“Their…rods can fire like rifles in the air,” he warned, apparently in the middle of a skirmish. “I could use some help, they keep popping the containment fields.”
“Got some techs to deliver, then I’ll be back.”
“Use your plasma rifle. They’re not waiting for the chambers to fill up.”
“Copy that,” Uma said as they made their way down the hall to the other Archon who was guarding a spur tunnel that ran over to another building, one that wasn’t yet flooding. Those areas that were under assault were being tagged on the battlemap so they could tell at a glance where it was safe to move the techs through as all the external buildings were being evacuated, though it seemed like those that used this tunnel were already on the move and long gone.
“I’ll take her,” the other Archon offered, freeing up Uma so she could head back the other way.
“Thanks,” she said, all but tossing the unconscious tech into the other’s hands before sprinting back down the tunnel. The aquatic armor she wore wasn’t exactly graceful, given its bulkier nature, but it was still Archon armor and therefore had to be at least partially agile, allowing her to run at a decent gait all the way down to where Jaden’s tag had ducked down a side entrance.
She found another stairwell up and took it, unslinging her plasma rifle from the rack underneath the flap on her back, next to which she carried a needler, both of which were standard issue for internal deployments, given that one never knew when they’d need to step outdoors for a swim or when the water would come pouring in as it was now. The plasma rifle was configured to be water safe, though firing it submerged was next to pointless unless you just wanted to make steam bubbles.
Uma charged up the staircase and through another containment shield, coming up through only a few inches of water, meaning this section of the building must have only recently been breached, given the cellular nature of the design and the hundreds of individual containment fields set up throughout the structure.
“Bringing them to you,” Jaden’s voice said, with Uma seeing his approach on the battlemap. “Ambush please.”
“Gladly,” she said, ducking back into the room away from the doorway so they couldn’t see her. A moment later Jaden’s red armor splashed into view then out the opposite doorway…then a trio of lizards came through after him, with Uma lighting up the second in line first with a shot to the midsection. As it fell she targeted the first before it could snap its unwieldy plasma rod around, downing it with a pair of shots before turning back to hit the third as more lizards were pushing through after it.
Jaden came back into the room and between the two of them mowed down the wet lizards with plasma, leaving a foggy haze in the room from all the vaporized water.
“Thanks,” he said, ducking out of the room and heading back towards the tunnel.
“Any more?” she asked, following him.
“Not here…not that I saw, but I want to stay ahead of the water as long as they’re doing the same.”
“Lead on,” she said, checking her battlemap as she followed him back to the containment field and the now half foot of water covering it.
4
A mongoose zipped down the main tunnel from Manaan and turned hard, tipping up on its left-side tires slightly as its shocks banked it through the inertial-laden curve, but it managed to stay upright thanks to the squat wheeled design and leveled out in one of several spur lines that ran through the bedrock and out to the adjacent buildings under lizard incursion.
As soon as he made the turn Kyler could see flashes of weaponsfire in the distance, so he didn’t spare any speed and ramped the mongoose up into its top gears as he held to the right side of the tunnel, passing by a few straggling techs running away from the fighting and towards a trio of parked mongooses taking on passengers. They were the larger versions, used to haul personnel out and back through these tunnels regularly, but Kyler’s was the individual variety and it most definitely wasn’t stopping to pick up and evacuate people…he was heading straight for the fighting.
Most of the arrowheads were still in the water, taking down what infantry they could, but that front was already a lost battle with hundreds of lizards now down inside the network of tunnels and more swimming in to join them. Knowing that, Kyler had come back to Manaan and hit the armory, grabbing as much combat gear as he could carry on one mongoose and heading out to the ground fighting as quickly as he could.
He had to zigzag a bit to avoid other pedestrians, most of whom were Archons redeploying from other assignments to reinforce their subsurface lines. Kyler sent out a telepathic warning ahead of him and most of them moved to the sides, though they had little forewarning given the speed the mongoose was moving.
Even as he watched the road ahead he was monitoring the battlemap inside his helmet and was well aware of what was happening up ahead. The lizards were breaking through shield after shield in the tunnel, allowing it to flood and fighting out of it to the next section, figuring that they stood a much better chance against the Archons in the water than they did in the air. They may have been right about that, but that didn’t mean the Archons couldn’t defeat them submerged, it was just that at the moment there were too few to counter the incursion, which was why the lizards were gaining ground.
That and the problem of weapons. Plasma couldn’t fire into the water at the lizards…and needlers couldn’t fire through the air to get into the water, making the transitional areas that were partly flooded up for grabs and the lizards were pushing these zones forward all the way down into the tunnels, having essentially water-grabbed several buildings above that they were no doubt setting up shop in as far as their incoming reinforcements were concerned.
That was about to change as soon as Kyler got up to them. This wasn’t the only tunnel under assault, but it was the one that had seen the lizards get closest to Manaan and the trailblazer was going to put a stop to any more forward progress here while other acolyte Archon teams were moving out to the other tunnels to reinforce the adepts that had been on station at the time of the first incursions.
The lone ranger on the planet, Kyler continued to speed down the tunnel in his green aquatics armor that looked odd on the back of a mongoose, but none the less it was getting him up to the fighting quicker than any other transport along with a stash of weapons for the other Archons tied down to the back of the vehicle.
When he came up on the fighting he didn’t slow, but telepathically told the other 6 Archons ahead of him to make way. Their 5 red and 1 silver armored bodies shifted positions, giving him a narrow line through them as they continued to fire plasma blasts into the shield ahead of them as several lizards stepped through from the half-flooded tunnel and into the air, firing green plasma orbs from their rods back at the Archons who had no cover to hide behind.
Kyler couldn’t see it, but several of them already had armor damage…but in a moment they were going to have a mongoose to hide behind, along with some new toys to play with. He didn’t have enough time to tell them that much, but if they couldn’t improvise then they didn’t deserve to be Archons, so he didn’t worry about it as he killed the engine on the mongoose and let it coast forward towards the gap the others had made.
As he steered to maintain his line, Kyler got his feet up on the seat and set himself in a squat, then jumped forward as he passed the other Archons, letting his momentum carry him up over the mongoose as he yanked the handle bars to the side. It curved sharply and bounced off the wall, flipping over and careening to a stop a few meters shy of the shield while Kyler’s body continued straight ahead and he punched through the shield superman style about 2 meters up from the ground.
Given that the shield was only holding back air on this side, it didn’t resist his entrance too much, but there was still a considerable deceleration as he hit the water on the far side, shooting him into the mess of lizards and knocking his head enough to disorient himself slightly.
The two dozen or so lizards floating in the water that was continuing to rise up towards the high ceiling were caught off guard, but quickly recovered and brought their plasma rods up and around to tag him with…then they suddenly lost their grip on their weapons and began to twitch around unnaturally.
Kyler pulled out a water-version stun stick from his back rack and jabbed the closest one to him while maintaining the Fornax disruption field with as much intensity as he could. He jetted to his left, jabbing another into unconsciousness as he grabbed a plasma rod with his free hand and began going through the lizards with the two weapons, knocking more than half of them out of the fight before he could hold the Fornax field no longer and had to mentally take a breath.
With their nervous systems now functional again the lizards got their situational awareness back and grabbed for their weapons, most of which had floated down to rest on the floor. Kyler stunned two more and killed a third while one near the shield reached down and picked up its weapon, then brought its glowing end up a couple of meters away from the trailblazer and kicked its legs back to propel it forward into him.
The lizard moved all of two inches before a pair of hands punched through into the water behind it and latched onto the creature, then it was pulled back through the shield and into the air, no longer a threat to Kyler.
Another lizard swam up to him and tried to jab him with his weapon, but Kyler parried it with his own plasma rod, then sent a tight beam Fornax burst directly into that lizard’s mind, allowing him to knock its weapon aside and move in to tag it with the stun stick.
He released the selective Fornax generation, which required far less power, and spun around just in time to knock aside another incoming plasma nub that missed his torso by a foot. Kyler took that lizard hand to hand, then summoned up another short range omni-directional Fornax field to distract two more long enough for him to swim up to them and take them down, one with each weapon he wielded.
Behind him two of the adepts had already come through and picked up plasma rods, using them to take down the rest of the lizards, which was when Kyler pointed them towards a det pack on the floor underneath one of the bodies.
“Get that out of here,” he ordered over the comm, “and secure these weapons and bodies. I’ll keep them busy ahead.”
“Copy that,” one of them answered back just as Kyler straightened out parallel to the ground and jetted off a la Ironman, using both leg jets and forearm jets to maximize propulsion and holding his weapons tight alongside him to reduce drag. It took several seconds for his speed to build, but once it did he was zipping back up the tunnel through the waterlogged bottom half to the point where there were individual lizards swimming down towards the shield.
Kyler jousted with them as he passed, not reducing speed. He won seven quick confrontations, given that he was able to cheat with a directed Fornax burst and knock their plasma rods aside in the confusion, tagging them in the chest or head as he passed and delivering a lethal touch of plasma in most cases. Each physical contact required him to corkscrew around to regenerate his line and speed, making his dash down the tunnel a feat of aquatics acrobatics that he pulled off well all the way up to the door some of the lizard reinforcements were coming in from.
Kyler stopped there, letting the water drag him to a halt, and waited in ambush. Using his Ikrid tracking ability he stretched out his senses to the point where he could ‘see’ the minds of the approaching lizards in a radius of about 15 meters, more than enough time to set himself and his stun stick in place to poke at it the moment the first one came through the doorway.
He grabbed the unconscious lizard by the neck and hauled it aside out of view, then repeated the process with the next one, staggered as they were. Behind them was a group of three, several seconds behind, as well as a pair coming down the tunnel from ahead, so he pulled out his needler and fired a PDM down the tunnel, using the laser targeting to lead it straight into the chest of the first lizard who tried to scramble out of the way.
It detonated with an audible pop and a slew of vaporized water from the brief vacuum created by the spherical concussion wave blocked his view of the other, which was still outside of his Ikrid range. He let it be for the moment and swung the needler around into the doorway and fired off another at the group of three lizards coming up.
The backwash knocked Kyler out away from the door, then he jetted back up and into it, grabbing the nearly plasma rod and finishing off what was left of the threesome after the detonation. Sensing no more lizards immediately close by he ducked back out into the tunnel and jetted down to the other lizard and finished it off before returning to the door and taking up sentinel duty. More lizards were on the way, and he intended to make them work very hard to get past him.
Off in another tunnel, Mero-7833 got knocked off his feet as the containment shield ahead of him fell to a lizard det pack and the water behind it burst forth. He fell headfirst to the ground but the rushing water never let him hit, instead carrying him further down the tunnel like a raging river, picking up a scattering of other Archons along the way.
Not far down another shield activated and caught the water, quickly filling up and condensing the air above it for the shield wouldn’t let anything less than solids pass through. Already, with the weight of the ocean filtering in through the numerous breaches in the infrastructure, the pressure being exerted on both the air and water was being translated into the shields, which were gratefully holding up, save for when a det pack blasted apart the emitters in the surrounding wall, as had just happened.
When the water hit the shield the backlash knocked Mero around, but eventually it settled down enough for him to get his mobility back, after which he jetted over to the shield and pushed his way through. Once he got his footing he backed up alongside two other Archons waiting with plasma rifles raised for the lizards to move up and bring the fight to them again.
A couple more Archons followed him out and helped reform their defensive line. All of them had plasma damage to their armor, but it was superficial and their water seals were holding. Behind them was the open arch leading into the loading bay for the shipyard where dozens more were setting up barricades and a more proper defensive line. One more shield remained between it and them, ready to activate if the current one was breached, and it was up to Mero’s team to delay the lizards’ advance as much as possible.
As they watched through the clear shield, the churning water up top settled and cleared down towards the bottom where they could see the lizards’ swimming forward in a tight group a few seconds away from passing through the shield. Mero held his plasma rifle ready, taking a knee in front of an adept and using his silver armor to cover the red legs of the other, minimizing the available silhouettes the lizards had to fire at while overlapping their own protection.
The first thing through the shield was a deactivated plasma rod, for otherwise the nub would have discharged against the shield on contact. Mero squeezed off a shot immediately and hit the weapon, melting into the nub casing and rendering it useless.
The lizard didn’t know that, and when its body came through the shield it flicked on the activation button and aimed at the first Human it saw…but no plasma orb shot out. Instead two blue lances came in and shot it dead while more lizards popped out more or less standing erect and firing green plasma at the Archons.
There were too many to hold off without letting them fire a few return shots, some of which hit the defenders. Between that accumulating damage and the Archons’ limited ammunition, coupled with the seemingly limitless number of lizards moving forward, the defensive line had to fall back, with Mero being the last to move, given his armor was thicker than the others’.
He held his position, taking a couple more hits as he killed three more lizards, then he jumped up and ran across to the other side of the tunnel, turning as he did into a sprint back towards the archway some 50 meters back. He took a hit to his back before reaching the barricades and jumping over the crates and taking up position behind them.
The lizards didn’t follow immediately, but more of them were popping through the distant shield while some of the Archons fired off plasma lances that hit several of them due simply to them being clumped together so closely, but they didn’t move off, charge, or scatter…they just held position until a few seconds later the ones in the front were passed forearm length rods from behind, and soon the leading lizards deployed their legionnaire shields, overlapping them as much as they could and beginning to walk forward while blocking the incoming plasma lances for at least a couple hits each.
“Shit,” Mero said, dropping his rifle on the ground beside his knee and concentrating on the minds ahead of him. His psionics skills weren’t very strong compared to some of the others, but most of those around him were adepts, leaving situations like this to him to deal with.
He picked out one of the minds on the front line and summoned as much Fornax intensity as he could and mentally shot it out on a straight line into the target.
That lizard suddenly stumbled, dropping its shield and tripping over its own webbed feet.
Half a dozen plasma lances shot out through the gap into the lizards behind and for a moment there was chaos in their line…but it quickly reformed as another picked up the shield and stepped into place.
Then as soon as the lines reformed they were blown apart by a wall of water from behind as the containment shield succumbed to another det pack.
The lizards were knocked forward in the wave, disappearing for a moment in the water until it ran up against the last containment shield in the tunnel inside the Archway and meters away from the horseshoe-shaped barricade line.
Right after the water hit, the lizards reappeared, plopping through the shield from their momentum and falling to the ground where the Archons made quick work of them. Those that didn’t get knocked through began assembling just inside the rising wall of water on the other side of the shield.
If they were able to knock that one down, the entire loading bay would flood…which was something they couldn’t afford to have happen.
Mero stood up and leapt over the barricade, leaving his plasma rifle on the ground behind it. On his way towards the shield he reached down and scooped up one of the plasma rods that had come through with the lizards then he ran into the wall of water like a football player shouldering into a block, punching through the shield and taking it to the lizards hand to hand with several other Archons following suit behind him.
5
“Kyler, they’re breached the shipyard outer defenses,” one of the aquatic Regulars said over the comm from the command level, given that all Archons had redeployed themselves into battle.
The trailblazer didn’t respond for several seconds, killing lizards as he was down in the tunnels.
“How many surface breach points do we have?” he asked, jetting backwards through the already filled tunnel a bit and grabbing another plasma rod from the floor. He flipped it on and jetted back the way he’d come, sensing more lizards approaching but unsure of the number given the limited effective distance of his already strained Ikrid tracking ability.
“49,” she said evenly with just a hint of strain in her voice.
“Mark them on the battlemap,” he ordered, slinking up against the wall and swimming around a stack of bodies he’d been piling up…the fourth pile, actually, given that he’d moved ambush spots three times now.
Little icons popped up on his holographic map on the edges and he zoomed out to get a better feel for where the lizard reinforcements were coming in from.
“Damn it,” he whisper swore. “Are any of them contained topside?”
“The seafloor is covered with lizards. Without physically patching the breaches we can’t rule any of them secure, but there are a few without current activity.”
“Any big ones?”
“Define big?”
“Arrowhead size?”
“Not to my knowledge. We don’t have visuals on all of them, so I can’t be sure.”
“Hold on,” Kyler said just as another lizard popped out into the tunnel beside him. He sensed another two right on his heels so he let the first one come out then jabbed the plasma rod into the head of the second one, meeting it just as it came into view.
There was an audible pop followed by a stream of steam bubbles as Kyler pulled back and rotated the rod to the left as he kicked off from the wall and jabbed straight into the ribs of the first one, taking it out and jetting around in a pinwheel to face off with the third that had to push its way past the body of the second. Its plasma rod jutted out at him, but Kyler got a hand on it in time and parried it aside. With a firm hold just below the plasma nub he pulled and brought the lizard closer as it chose not to let go, then he jabbed it with his own and quickly ended their little threesome’s advance through the outer city.
“Still there?”
“Yes.”
“Has the shipyard been completely evacuated?”
“Of engineers and techs, but we’ve got combat teams engaged there now.”
“What about the tunnel spurs outside the fence?”
“Those doors have been locked down, but the lizards haven’t gotten to them yet. They’re two sections away on the southeast side though, but that defensive position appears to be holding for the moment.”
“Is the tunnel entrance to the shipyard flooded?”
“Three are.”
“Open one of the topside doors and flood it, then order the arrowheads inside.”
“Did you just say flood the main bay?!”
“If there are no techs left, yes. Flood it.”
“Is that safe? There are probably pieces of equipment that will react poorly to water.”
“Give everyone a heads up then open one of the doors, then have the arrowheads start patrolling the flooded tunnels. They should be able to deal with the infantry better than we can.”
“Alright.”
“And Linda…start prepping the techs for an air evac. We’re not giving up this city, but if the lizards get much further I want them out of the way.”
“Evac to where?”
“If Paul’s not busy have them taken up to the battle stations.”
“Uh, actually they’re under assault right now…”
Kyler frowned, and not just because he sensed another group of lizards coming his way. “To Ackbar then. Don’t suppose we still have that naval support available?”
“Yes we do. He left six ships standing by for our use.”
“Bring them down and get the evac started…and see how many Archons we can pull in from other locations.”
“Vander is on his way back.”
“Any good news?” Kyler asked, readying himself next to the doorway again.
“He said he’d fill you in later, but yes.”
“We need more than him, but any will do.”
“Do you want the Regulars deployed?”
“No, keep them at the city entrances. What gets by us they’ll have to deal with, so keep them together and digging in as much as possible. How are the battleships holding up?”
“The Black Pearl is over the fence trying to hit the transports bringing in more troops. The others are still maintaining the fence-line and look to be able to continue doing so for some time. Lizard activity is centered around the infantry. I think that’s what they see as their ticket in now. They’re not even targeting the defenses anymore, they’re going straight for the breach points and making new ones.”
“Keep tagging any that they make with markers. I’m going to roam around and disrupt their flow as much as I can. Just get those arrowheads in here as soon as possible, and let me know if you have trouble with the evac.”
“Good luck,” Linda offered before cutting the comm.
A moment later Kyler used what little Fornax energy he had left and disrupted the lizards on the other side of the doorway before he pulled his way through and started taking them out one by one with the plasma rod, due to the fact that his stun stick had long since been depleted, as had his needler.
He worked his way through this group of six, then instead of going back to his ambush spot he began working his way through the building towards the nearest of the tagged breach points, killing whatever lizards he came across with a combination of psionics, captured weapons, and sheer determination.
Fred-6992 was one of the closest Archons to the shipyard when the orders came through, offering him an overtop view of the huge building as he zipped his arrowhead along its flank heading for the far corner door as the shields dropped. Visibly it didn’t register. An invisible shield going down didn’t show up, but the vortex that formed above the armored door as it slowly began to retract was.
With the interior clear door already having been removed, once the armor shell that covered 1/8th of the building cracked open the incoming water and out flowing air twisted around each other and made for all kinds of turbulence that Fred was happy to be far from. He continued his approach, slowing his speed so as not to arrive too early, and waited for the air/water exchange to finish out, noticing that the door wasn’t fully retracting.
That was probably intentional to keep the equipment inside from being completely blasted apart by the water. He didn’t doubt he’d have a minefield of parts to navigate through once he got inside, but he’d definitely prefer it if the battleship’s hulk wasn’t broken up as well, that way at least he’d have a predictable structure to zip around hunting lizards rather than a chaotic mess.
Truth was, he wasn’t sure how much damage the water was doing, but given the weight of it falling from the height it was, plus the pressure the water was under with a mile and a half of ocean pushing down above it, he definitely didn’t want to be inside while the transition was taking place.
The fact that they’d gotten to this point was a bad sign, but if the subsurface tunnels were already flooded and filling up with lizard infantry then bringing the arrowheads inside made sense…even if they had to junk the shipyard in the process to do it. Also, he knew they could have taken the long route and carried the arrowheads through the city and down to the tunnels via the cargo lifts, so the fact that they were intentionally flooding the shipyard to allow them access told him that the situation inside must have been worse than he thought.
Fred was pleased to see a number of lizards get sucked up into the vortex. That hadn’t been part of the plan, but there were hundreds swimming over or near the shipyard that got caught up in the turbulence and knocked around, if not sucked inside. He didn’t know if they’d survive or not, but at least it was disrupting their movements, of which the arrowheads and other craft had done little to stop. Fred alone had stunned/killed hundreds of them in the previous hours, but the enemy was pouring an unbelievable number of the ‘ground’ troops into the assault, far more than he’d thought they’d have in play on the entire planet.
The vortex, or more accurately, vortexes, lasted several minutes before the entire mile+ long building was filled with water. Even then there were still erratic currents flowing around the entrance but Fred wasn’t going to wait any longer. By then several other arrowheads had assembled around the area, and as soon as one of them started heading in the others followed suit and jetted up to the crack in the doors, then dropped down inside, visibly quivering as they got buffeted around by the remaining turbulence.
Fred passed through the ‘small’ gap easily, given that it was wider than a football field, and dropped down on top of a skeleton of a battleship directly beneath. He followed the others as they pulled up and skitted along the underside of the doors until they got past the skeleton to the open water surrounding it…which was littered with debris and lizards.
Before he could zip over and tag his first with the V-shaped stun blade on the front of his craft, he got a ping on his battlemap from one of the Archon teams near the entrances. He followed it, or rather navigated to it around the floating junk, and came in slowly on the doorway to an offshoot chamber where he saw numerous Archon ID tags floating.
Making sure not to hit any of them he ducked his arrowhead in first, with another four following behind him with the others moving around the shipyard to other locations, and immediately finding a cluster of lizard infantry to target as they closed with a knot of Archons who were fighting hand to hand with some others. They looked to be holding their own, but the numbers definitely were not on their side.
Fred plowed right into the enemy troops, ignoring their plasma rods given that he was coming at them from a backside angle and he didn’t think they’d seen his approach…nor were expecting it.
He put the point of the arrowhead dead center in their formation and busted his way through, hitting some with the stun weapon and others with the sides of his tiny ship, knocking the whole group apart and making easy pickings for the arrowheads following him. They spun around the large chamber, taking down others and allowing the Archons in the water to finish off the stragglers before the arrowheads left them behind and ducked into the tunnel entrance, seeing a hoard of infantry ahead, most of whom appeared to still be scattered from the currents created by the flooding of the shipyard.
“Hold up, Fred,” Sera-10483 said over the comm as she fought to catch up to him in her own arrowhead. “Let’s go in side by side.”
“Gladly,” the other Archon said, coasting forward until hers came up alongside, then the pair accelerated hard ahead and began catching the lizards off guard as they plowed through them, keeping their mental fingers crossed and hoping they didn’t take too many plasma rod hits in the process.
Far outside the fence line Vander was approaching the lizard fleets surrounding Manaan, jetting forward in his streak as he sized up the enemy alignment. His ship, low on power as it was, was faster than anything the lizards had, but if he got too close he’d be in trouble…and his mission now was to get inside the fence, not engage the ships outside.
“Ok,” he said, flexing his back for the umpteenth time in the cramped cockpit that had been his home for far too long. “Here we go.”
He angled the streak to the left, ran it out about 500 meters then banked back right and started a shallow ascent as he ran the water jets up to maximum power…then he kicked in the anti-grav and his ascent steepened. His speed also ramped up until he became a long, thin missile cutting through the water towards a gap between the lizard ships drifting around the 38 mile perimeter.
The point he’d chosen had no large ships nearby, but there were hundreds of sharks moving about in between and they’d seen him coming, given that they were now moving to intercept him where they thought he was going to cross their lines.
Vander held his nerve and his line, knowing that they weren’t going to be able to predict his exact spot given his anti-grav ascent…plus he kept wavering his line a bit to keep them guessing, which was difficult given the speed he was moving, for every little twitch of the nose moved him several degrees due to the friction of the water, making his entire ship a directional pane despite its needle-like hull.
He kept a close eye on the altimeter, knowing he had to nail that one exactly, or nearly. He had a little leeway there, but not much.
As he got near the sharks, most of which were still lateral of him, he saw minnows start popping up on his sensors by the dozens and forced himself to breathe. There was no shooting them down, he simply had to outrun them, and given the speed he was bringing in, so long as he passed them cleanly, he doubted those already fired would be able to reverse course fast enough to catch him on the other side.
However, as he closed to parallel with the sharks they continued popping out more minnows…and those were coming at him from the side at nearly his speed and accelerating quickly.
He saw most of the first minnows pass behind him and arc around, trying to fall in on his tail. He mostly ignored them, watching his line and just hoping none of the little torpedoes got lucky. The fence was just ahead and he was nearing the end of his ascent as the minnow count pursuing him passed 100. Vander wasn’t counting, and when he saw he was going to stay ahead of them by at least a small margin he ignored all but his trajectory, making a few small last moment adjustments as he neared the fence.
Given the speed he was traveling, which was insane for an underwater craft, he wasn’t going to risk shooting the gap in the fence…so instead he chose to go with something a bit more flashy.
A few hundred meters before he reached the top of the fence, which was a single layer reaching up to just above the waves, he adjusted his angle of climb heavily, pointing the nose higher up and shifting his anti-grav from lateral to vertical, ramping the streak out of the water and into the air…
Like a javelin it shot up, arched over, and came back down in the water on the far side, clearing the fence top by more than 20 meters. The minnows that hadn’t already ran out of fuel lost track of the ship when it was in the air and went after the closest proximity target they could find…which was the fence.
They swarmed to it, detonating against the thick metal pylons and barely nicking them with their small explosions, leaving Vander’s skeet unpursued as he shifted the anti-grav back over to lateral and sped in towards the Highwind that sat in the water a couple of kilometers ahead of him and more than halfway down from the surface.
He could see sporadic blue flashes from the plasma columns as they targeted the seafloor, trying to hit or scatter the thousands of lizard infantry that the battlemap had tagged crawling over the fence line interior like an infestation of ants. Vander wanted to help out with them, knowing that the battleship wasn’t equipped for such small scale combat, but he knew the major fight was occurring indoors so he set course for the now flooded shipyard, passing by several smaller Star Force capital ships floating in place and targeting what infantry they could, though by now most of them had expended their ammunition and were awaiting resupply.
Vander knew that wasn’t likely to come with the support structures around the city under assault, and even as he shot his streak across the interior landscape he saw a large shield column rise up above the city and connect to the atmosphere, indicating that a transport was either coming down or going up.
That meant they were beginning to evacuate the city, and if he was going to get into this fight now was the time.
Once he reached the shipyard he dove his streak down through the large crack in the topside doors, knocking aside lizard infantry that were now pouring down into the facility through the crack as a swarm of arrowheads were waiting below to ambush them.
They made way for his streak, after which he literally had to blow through the unconscious/dead bodies floating inside to get down to the bottom of the shipyard to where he snaked his way around the debris and battleship skeleton over to the tunnel entrances, picking the one he thought held the quickest route to the heaviest lizard concentrations below.
“Heads up, people,” he announced over open comm to the Archons’ helmet receivers, but excluded any ship ones. “Streak coming in. Point me where I’m needed.”
6
“Vander, that’s not going to fit around the corners,” Kyler’s voice said over the comm as the Archon shot his craft down the flooded tunnel, knocking aside lizards that got in his way like they were bowling pins, though most survived the impacts.
“I can at least disrupt their movements,” he argued, coming up to the first crossroads intent on trying to turn anyway. The tunnels had never been designed to be flooded, so he doubted anyone had considered the possibilities of ships moving through them, though he did see several arrowheads moving about on the battlemap ahead of him.
“How many PDM do you have left?”
“Full load, plus four torpedoes if I can find a use for them. They get anything other than infantry in here?”
“No, just the little guys. Play train as long as you’ve got lizards to kill, then ditch the streak and take it to them hand to hand. The only way we win this one is by racking up an insane kill count. They can’t get their fleet in past the battleships yet, so this is their only play and they’re going for broke. They’ve been mass assaulting choke points and using their det packs to take down the containment shields and flood sections ahead of them, so watch it when you get close and use needlers on any carrying packs at range.”
“Evac?”
“We’re not giving up the city,” Kyler said emphatically, “but if they break through into the main building things are going to get messy and I don’t want noncombatants getting in the way.”
“Copy that, but I wouldn’t assume they’ve given up on the fence line. They’ve got a freaking huge fleet camped outside that I had to run my ass through to get back here.”
“I know,” Kyler said calmly. “That’s the battleships’ fight right now, this is ours. Get into Halo mode and work on our kill count.”
“Happy to,” Vander said, stopping at the intersection and bending his skeet at the midsection. Using only the anti-grav for maneuvering he tried to tip the needle-nose to the left into the next section, but the ship was too long and even with the bend in the hull the curve wasn’t sharp enough. He pounded the tip against the wall, then wiggled the hull around a bit seeing if he could goose his way through, but it was no use. He was stuck with forward and back only.
“Ok,” he said to himself, switching over to weapons control as he backed up and straightened out, “let’s make this death row then.”
He picked up a cluster of lizards ahead in his tracking display and fired a PDM out at them. It was larger than the versions fired by the needler pistol but it operated off of the same technology. The little missile spat ahead and swam to its target and detonated, killing the lizard it hit and wounding those around.
Vander’s streak spat out several more, then he reversed direction and backed his way up the tunnel with the more blunt end of his ship pushing a significant wall of water ahead of it. Those lizards that he’d knocked aside before were hit again, then when they became visible in his forward arc he popped them with PDM at close range, making it feel like he was playing a videogame in reverse.
He moved his streak all the way back out into the shipyard, then swam it around to another tunnel entrance and proceeded down it, shooting all the lizard groups he could come across while simply ramming the individuals. This process he repeated for all the tunnels, including an angled spur off of one that he was able to make the bend for.
Vander patrolled the stretches he was capable of maneuvering down while the arrowheads in the shipyard and above kept disrupting the incoming lizard flow as much as they could. The other streaks in play were elsewhere, shooting up the lizards as they crossed the seafloor, as was the rest of the interior defense fleet, but the carpet of invaders kept coming in numbers that seemed unfathomable.
Four hours later…
“Close them, now,” Kyler said in between plasma rod parries with three more of the never ending lizard infantry.
“What about the Archons outside the doors? There are several dozen of you,” Linda said from the command level.
“We’ll be fine,” he said, jabbing one of the lizards with its own plasma rod after a Fornax burst that disrupted the nervous systems of all three. “Shut them now.”
“Closing,” Linda said, nodding to another staffer in the city’s control center who pressed the final commands into the console before him. On the central holographic display detailing the subsurface battles they were gradually losing, the five tunnel entrances into the city flashed with highlights as meter-thick doors began to inch their way into position, physically closing off the entrances where before there had only been containment force fields.
It took the better part of a minute for them to all close, with Archon and Regular troops ducking back through at the last minute as the lizards approached two of the positions on foot, with the wall of water held back a few sections in each location by still intact energy fields.
“Doors closed,” she told Kyler. “Good luck.”
“So long as they have det packs they’re still coming through,” the trailblazer reminded her. “We just bought ourselves some more time. Beef up our defense lines inside.”
“On it,” she said as Kyler cut the comm from his end, no doubt busy killing more lizards.
“We’ve got a flight of dropships and mantises inbound from Seaquest,” another staffer reported. “They’re requesting permission to land in the city.”
“Are we clear?” Linda asked, glancing at the hologram but not relying on her cursory look.
“No aerial lizard contacts showing. No known launch capable submersibles.”
“Open shafts 3 and 4. Launch two skeets on patrol.”
Up on the ocean surface two tiny shield columns reached up from the seafloor and broke the surface, then began widening as they pushed a mile’s worth of water aside, gradually creating a pair of open air corridors capable of carrying the wider aerial craft straight down into the city. As those formed two smaller ones manifested beside them and launched the skeets into the air where they split up and began circling around the perimeter.
All of Manaan’s transports had already left the city with passengers onboard and had yet to return. The incoming flight was from their twin city, carrying Archons and Regulars along with a number of small aquatics craft. Those carrying personnel went straight for the open shafts, with a pair of Falcon-class dropships being the first to settle into a hover and carefully descend down into the shafts with the ocean water poised around them in heavy walls ready to come crashing down on top of them if the shields failed.
Four Dragon-class dropships ignored the shafts and landed in the water itself above the city, opening up their holds and releasing schools of arrowheads into the war zone below. With their cargo released the dropships slowly rose back up, draining their holds of the water, then made their way over to the entry columns and got in line behind the others, ready to take on additional Manaan evacuees.
Paul’s mind was working frantically, his eyes darting across three different holograms in the command nexus as he was Ikrid linked into the system. He saw an escaping opportunity to take out several lizard ships in the chaos and knew he had to act quickly before the enemy took its good fortune and fled.
One of the Star Force battle stations was rubble, along with over 4,000 people inside. He hadn’t completely abandoned the idea of there being some survivors remaining somewhere in the pieces, and he had the Excalibur’s Captain working on organizing the search and rescue operation, but the fighting wasn’t over and he was focused on taking out as many of the damn enemy ships as he could while he had the opportunity.
He alternated between sending out orders to individual ships and fleet commanders, including other trailblazers, getting their widely spaced battlefield realigned to pounce on isolated pockets of lizard ships that had succeeded in engaging Star Force and pushing hard to take out the battle station currently under construction, going so far as to land a few long distance plasma shots on the weak defense shield it carried.
But it had all been a ploy…or maybe not, and the enemy commander had simply improvised. Either way Paul had failed and let a kamikaze ship through their lines.
‘Thrawn’ was certainly living up to the moniker Paul had given it/them, and the trailblazer was burning with a mix of rage and embarrassment at getting owned in his specialty. He wasn’t going to compound his error by letting the lizard ships within range get free, so he channeled all his rage into his mental calculations and reset his naval chess board into hunter mode, ganging up on several select groups while maintaining defensive pickets around the jumpline between the planet and the battle station cluster so the lizards couldn’t pull the same trick twice.
Using momentum and ramming a ship into another as a kinetic weapon was a tactic Paul had invented for Star Force way back during his basic training, and he’d been adamant about arraying defenses to protect against someone else doing the same thing to them. That was one reason Star Force maintained a large number of smaller capital ships rather than just building all cruisers and up.
The smaller, faster ships would be deployed out from a battle station or command ship at considerable range, enabling possible intercepts of any incoming craft on a high speed collision course. They needed the faster speed to increase the odds of catching the incoming kamikazes, or at least to match them. Paul knew the quicker the ships he had and the greater the range he could deploy them gave him the ability to intercept and nudge the enemy off course, which was why the block-like construction of the drone warships was heavily reinforced with a superstructure capable of pushing other ships without completely deforming themselves on contact.
Then, as a last resort, he could have one of his picket ships kamikaze ram the kamikaze in order to knock it off course so that it would miss the target. He wished that Star Force had shields capable of holding off an impact of that size, but that was far beyond them. In fact, Earth’s defense plan had a number of specially designed kamikaze ships lying in wait for if/when the V’kit’no’sat came back. Paul knew that momentum was the strongest weapon they had, and given the huge size of the their ships it was probably the only chance he had of destroying one, because even as navigational calculations became more and more precise the farther out you made your run, you could always add more speed, and therefore more destructive power if your approach wasn’t challenged.
Paul had defended the battle stations against such an assault, with numerous pickets in position to deploy to intercept any lizard ship that took up an approach that even smelled like a kamikaze trajectory. That picket line was always subject to the number of ships he had to work with, but during this battle the enemy hadn’t appeared to be attempting such an attack, even given their penchant for suicide missions.
During the long, drawn out battle that had several ‘engagements’ within the sequence of events, a small group of cruisers broke off and made a run for the planet. Paul sent a few waiting ships in extreme low orbit after them, hoping to knock out at least one before they got into the atmosphere, assuming they were going to reinforce their aquatics forces with additional weapons/troops/materiel.
During the run down to the atmosphere one of the ships broke off on a spur, looking as if it was heading to an alternative surface site, but it decelerated hard prior to entering the atmosphere and above the intercept Paul’s ships were angling for.
That one ship positioned itself square on a jumpline from the planet that led straight into one of their battle stations. Paul had recognized the threat moments after it stalled out its descent, but his ships were too far away to do anything about it. In agony, he watched as the stationary cruiser rapidly accelerated up away from the planet on its gravity drives, stretching out its acceleration curve into a streak of motion as it made a kamikaze jump straight into the battle station.
At the speed it connected the cruiser punched straight through the shields and armored hull, passing into and through the station with the debris pushing out the far side like a shot gun. Fortunately the other two and a half stations hadn’t been caught up in the spray, though Sara’s warship did take a few shield strikes from baseball sized ‘dust’ much farther up in orbit.
No one else had seen the attack coming, but Paul didn’t excuse himself for making the mistake of letting the lizards pull it off. They’d never used this tactic before, to his knowledge, but that didn’t mean Paul wasn’t aware of it, because he had planned to use it against enemies in the future if the situation merited it.
He should have had ships guarding that jumpline, though in truth a ship could have used the star or any other gravity wells in the system to make similar kamikaze runs, but the planet offered the closest and strongest push off for an attack, and Paul was furious at not having seen that coming in time to stop it.
He didn’t let that anger blind him, and had the Star Force fleet picking off capital ships in the double digits as the lizard forces disengaged piecemeal now that their primary objective had been met. What galled him even more was the sloppy retreat they were making that was giving him the opportunity to thin their numbers. An enemy that could pull of a kamikaze strike like that should have been competent enough to make a coordinated retreat…which showed that despite their tactical brilliance they weren’t that significant of a naval power.
Which meant Paul had got owned by a group of losers. That and the deaths of so many Star Force personnel were really eating under his skin. He hated losing, but he couldn’t stand other people dying because of a mistake he’d made.
At the same time his calculating mind knew he had to cut himself some slack. Without some means of energy-based deflection, such as a tractor beam to push a kamikaze off course before it hit, there was no way he could put up a perfect defense. He’d simmed against himself so many times in that regard, and no matter how skilled a defensive net he laid, he was always able to find a way to penetrate it when he took on the role of attacker.
So in essence his current defense against kamikaze ships was half real, half bluff…and required him to predict the enemy’s movements in order to forestall an attack being launched, because once it was, especially in this case when the transit occurred inside of 2 seconds, Star Force had no way of stopping it.
Paul worked the Ikrid interface skillfully, his anger enhancing his focus rather than distracting from it, and his fleets racked up 17 additional capital ship kills, including 2 battleships that got left behind by their faster escorts during the retreat. Ship for ship, the sum total of the engagement had their kill count at 132 and the lizards’ at 54, though that was skewed given the fact that the lizard ships outmassed the Star Force ones, leaving the adjusted kill ratio at about 4/1.
A victory, that would have been, except for the loss of the battle station. Include it in the mix and, equipment wise, it amounted to a draw…but Star Force naval strategy, of which Paul had written most of, was centered around preserving crews while expending equipment. Only the largest ships had personnel onboard, and they weren’t used in the direct fighting.
The battle stations were heavily armored due to the fact that they couldn’t redeploy away from the enemy, meaning that the lizards would have to expend firepower on the shields to get them down, then slowly chew through the armor to get at the interior that held the crew, most of which would redeploy to the center levels during battle for additional protection.
The kamikaze cruiser had blown right through those defensive precautions in a fraction of a second, making today not only a defeat, but a total rout. Never before had Paul lost a battle this badly, and while it wasn’t going to negatively affect his ability to command, it immediately set his mind on a review process of every tactic and protocol he’d come to rely on.
Paul’s subconscious wouldn’t let him do any less, because he couldn’t accept the deaths of the battle station crew as ‘acceptable.’ Losing personnel was never acceptable, but above all else Paul abhorred the idea of the 1 shot kill, for it meant that those who prepared, who trained, who grew stronger than the rest could be killed as easily as a newb…and his gut told him that was just plain wrong.
Which meant his defenses were at fault. He’d failed those personnel who’d been aboard that station. They hadn’t gone down fighting, been overwhelmed by a superior opponent…they’d been blindsided and that had been his fault.
And he couldn’t let it happen again, no matter what the logistics of their available defensive technology were.
7
September 16, 2429
Retari System
Atlantica
Kyler hadn’t slept since the infantry battle began, nor had any of the other Archons in the tunnels, and he was beginning to feel the effects of both fatigue and lack of ambrosia in his system, but there was no way to resupply given the fact that he was literally surrounded by thousands of lizards, and even if he’d had an arrowhead bring out a satchel of supplies from the main building via the shipyard entrance, there was no way he was getting over there given the infested nature of the tunnels.
He had a slight headache buzzing, but fortunately the power cell in his armor hadn’t given out, and he was relying on his four suit jets for most of his movement through the warehouse he was hunting in at the moment.
Or being hunted. Which was occurring was a bit of perspective, given that the lizards knew his approximate location and the fact that he was isolated. They were diverting troops to hunt him down, given that he’d been raiding their strongholds in the captured buildings. The infantry that were still coming in from ships dumping more of them outside the fence perimeter were carrying more than det packs. The Archons still patrolling around the most popular entry points in the substructure had stopped many of them and done a quick assessment of what they were carrying.
Which was everything…everything they needed to set up for a long siege.
Foodstuffs, comm equipment, portable structures broken down into very small pieces, shield gauntlets, bundles of plasma rods, and a bunch of other useful stuff for a long campaign. Leave it to the lizards to show you where you were weak, because they were setting up shop inside Star Force’s own infrastructure because they hadn’t put up enough damn anti-infantry defenses. He hadn’t conceived of that being a problem, given that they could intercept any troop ships well out from the city…nor had, even in his wildest dreams, he considered them deploying this many into open water.
They were killing so many of them it was literally a slaughter, but they’d sent so many in, and were continuing to send more, that they were overwhelming the defenders with targets. Too many targets to get to before they got past them.
There had been some brief discussion about building a solid wall around the city, but the amount of resources expended on the fence hadn’t been something they’d conceived of lightly. Given the small net it was constructed of the amount of metal they’d had to mine to construct it was enough to build several more cities, but Kyler and the others had deemed it essential to establish not just infrastructure, but strongholds that would seriously hinder any lizard assault attempts.
And it was doing just that. Their larger ships couldn’t get through the net and their smallest ones were toast if they tried. The inverted ‘V’ design made it impossible to topple the fence, and cutting out pieces of it for them to get through took time and made a choke point that they’d have to pass through, and given that there already was a huge opening ‘gate’ set in the design, the lizards cutting their own didn’t make a lot of sense, but if they decided to press that angle the guardian fleets could respond before they could get much accomplished.
Add in the defense towers outside the fence and you had a significant deterrent against large scale assaults. The only reason the towers had gone down was because the lizards were hitting them with an insane scale assault, but even then the fence was doing its job and keeping their ships back…and the battleships were whittling them down, taking turns hoping over the porous barrier and roughing up the fleets outside before jumping back in to recharge shields all the while daring the lizards to make a more frontal assault that they couldn’t do with the fence constricting their approach options.
So even with their towers busted up outside, the city was more or less safe, not counting the turret island devastation, and then the damn lizards had to go and show Kyler that his carefully designed defenses had a weakness he hadn’t considered…nor had anyone else, including Ariel, meaning this mustn’t have been in their enemy’s playbook until recently. Hell, Star Force had probably prompted them to invent it. Nice how they were always teaching each other new things.
And now it was his turn, in which he intended to school them in the art of not pissing off a sleepless Archon in close quarters.
The warehouse wasn’t an area the lizards had set up shop in, which made it an empty zone for them to throw down in, save for the dozens of dead lizards cluttering the water. Given the pressure it was under the lizard bodies more or less floated neutrally, while their slightly more dense weapons sank. Those he was collecting and putting to good use, and though the suspended bodies were a bit hard to differentiate from the living, those he was also putting to use as barricades as he swam about, ducking in and out of the corpses and crates as he wove his way from the floor to the ceiling that still had a few meters of air trapped and compressed there.
Breathing it was a no go, not that he really had time to try. His armor provided him with all the air he needed, and he was breathing heavy as he fought the dense water, leveraging his arms and legs in conjunction with the jets to maneuver around like a predator hunting the scores of lizards also hunting him. Taking them down was easy one on one, but he’d been having to do it for so long that his fatigue was making his slip up every now and then.
Fortunately the lizards’ weapons were point of touch only in the water, meaning they had to get up close and personal rather than pound on him in groups from afar. Given he was using their weapons, since his needler ammunition had long since expired in what felt like a lifetime ago, he had to close with them as well to fight, with the key being choosing the moments of contact and not letting the lizards gang up on him.
That wasn’t the only reason he needed to keep moving about, because he knew that if he got stationary his fatigue would start to assert itself and he’d get sleepy. Without ambrosia to cut into his fatigue he needed his adrenaline at least seeping through, so he had to stay active and the best way to do that was by fighting the enemy…which was fortunate, given they kept coming for him and didn’t seem to feel like taking a breather.
Kyler jabbed, parried, kicked, and punched his way through more and more lizards, reserving his nearly depleted psionics for select cases of need, until there were too many bodies floating about and he was forced to fight his way into an adjacent hallway. From there he jetted down a long, straight length until he came to another appropriately sized room, knowing from experience that he didn’t want to get cornered in a small one again.
They’d previously pinned him in one and tried to run a det pack in to finish him off, with him barely distracting the lizard from pulling the trigger. Had he not had Fornax he’d been facing an explosion a meter in front of his face, and even with the water dampening the blast a bit his armor would have at least cracked, and the concussion would have left him unconscious even if he’d been lucky enough to avoid getting any shrapnel in his body.
So Kyler kept moving after that, from one large area to another with little chance of rest. The lizards had his position and were coordinating to keep him under pressure, unlike the previous day when he’d been more or less free to roam about. The other Archons, when he had the chance to look at his battlemap, had at least paired up, but they were also under assault, being hunted throughout the tunnels and buildings, though a couple had managed to secure safe zones from which to counterattack from.
Kyler, as he’d hoped, was drawing the most attention, given the amount of infantry he was killing, but he was beginning to hit his limit…and he knew from encountering this level of fatigue in training that his abilities were going to stretch out rather than black out. His speed would slow, his thought processes would fog up, and though he’d still be fighting he wouldn’t realize how debilitated he was becoming until an appropriately sized challenge came up and bit him in the ass.
Only this wasn’t a challenge, it was live combat. And the ass biting in this case would be lethal.
That left him two choices…retreat and rest, or go hyper and keep his energy flowing so much that it would fight off the blowback. That was risky, like continually stretching a rubber band…eventually it would snap back on him, but he had no choice. He had to live in the moment and ignore the biological warning signs telling him he had little left to fight with. Those signs had been wrong in the past and he was gambling that he had more in him than he knew…and this was one of those rare times when you got the chance to find out.
“Kyler, how you holding up?” Vander’s voice popped into the trailblazer’s helmet.
“Still alive. You?”
“They’re trying hard, but failing. You got plans?”
“Nope. You?” Kyler said, spotting a pair of lizards appearing ahead and prepping himself to ram them rather than slow and fight more conservatively, for there were more following behind, and his jets weren’t getting him all that far ahead of them when he had to stop and contend with more infantry every 10 seconds or so.
“We’ve got something cooked up if you can get to us.”
“Give me a sec,” he said, summoning a short range Fornax burst, just enough to disrupt their senses as he got within sparring range. He pushed one of their plasma rods aside and ducked under another, jabbing his own into the lizard whose weapon he didn’t have a grip on, then kicked into the midsection of the one he did when its eyes focused on him in the wake of the Fornax disruption.
Its grip slipped a few inches but it didn’t let go…until he jabbed it with the plasma nub and burnt a hole into its chest. He kicked it in the head as he jetted by, then dumped his old plasma rod and brought the new one with him.
“Go.”
“Got a place where we can get some breathing room. Did a little rearranging and hid an exit. Can you get to my location?”
Kyler checked his battlemap, sensing another lizard about to come out into the hallway ahead. Vander was in a different building altogether, meaning he was going to have to move through one of the tunnels to get there…and the shortest route was a no go, considering it passed through one of the main staging locations for the lizards.
“It’ll take me a while, but I’m headed there now,” he said, adding Vander’s current location as a waypoint in case the Archon moved to another spot.
“The others are heading this way, and those of us here are staging raids out to clear a path. When you get close we’ll do the same.”
“Copy that,” Kyler said, moving off so he was traveling along the leftmost wall, then accelerated harder so that he came up on a doorway just a hair after the lizard’s plasma rod came into view. He grabbed it and used his own to jab the enemy infantry in the head. Once the fiery plasma melted into its skull and the bubble spray dissipated he knocked the body aside and jetted on, turning right at the far end of the hall with a plan and structuring his mind around the task of completing it with what energy he had left.
Kyler jetted out of the tunnel and into an industrial building, zigzagging through a preplanned course that Vander and four other Archons had more or less cleared out of lizards. With every second that went by he gapped those following him and with the multiple turns he got out of sight long enough to momentarily lose them while avoiding the others in the building.
Two more turns and he was into a storage room where Vander was waiting. The acolyte waved him over to stack of crates and pointed him through a gap where one was set with the side pulled up. Kyler went through first, then Vander swam in and pulled the flap down, locking it in place with a crude latch before swimming through the gutted crate to the other side of the stack set up against a wall covering a doorway to the other side of the building.
“How many exits?” Kyler asked, glancing back at their handiwork. They’d cut and welded the camouflage crate door, judging by the job they’d done on the interior latch, making it impossible for the lizards to pull it open even if they found the spot.
“We have three from our mini complex, which contains six rooms, two bigger than this. We’ve covered the other entrances so they can’t get in, and so far none of them have tried.”
Kyler floated in place, waving his hands around a bit to maintain his position as his head began to swoon from the sudden rest…quicker than he’d expected.
“Head count?”
“We have two yet to arrive, the others are out on raids. We’ve got a stash of lizard weapons, some of our heavy equipment, a few lizard shields, and one of their det packs.”
“What heavy equipment?”
“Industrial stuff, cutters and things that can go bang if we need them to.”
“What’s the status on the city doors?”
“They’re pounding on two of them, but we’ve managed to disrupt some of their supply runs. They’re having to send a lot of det packs up and we’ve stopped several from getting through. I’d guess we’ve got at least 12 hours before breach.”
“How many packs is that?”
“I’m figuring upwards of 200. The lizards keep scrounging them up from somewhere, so I assume they’re still getting fresh supplies in from the surface.”
“Last I heard the supply ships were still dropping fresh armies off outside the fence,” Kyler said, finding his eyelids drooping. “But I haven’t had much time to chat. You probably know more than I do.”
“Yeah, had a few chats with the defense teams. They’re going to randomly open up the main doors to disrupt the assault groups. No more than a meter, but they’re not going to let them just sit there and pound.”
“Are they all waterlogged?”
“Yeah.”
“Well I’m fresh out of ideas…and ambrosia. Thanks for pulling me in.”
“We’re all feeling it, but we’ve been able to take some quick naps. I suggest you do the same.”
“In a bit. Do we have a plan?”
“In case you didn’t hear, my streak got toasted after I left it. We can call for another to come in, but this building is too far from the shipyard to get to easily.”
“What good would that do? Other than the PDMs?”
“They’re real handy for popping det packs,” Vander reminded him.
Kyler rolled his eyes inside his helmet. “Right, sorry. My mind’s not functioning well at the moment.”
“Let me bottom line it for you then. The arrowheads are still patrolling the shipyard and the surrounding tunnels, but aren’t going much further because some of them got winged by det packs. Without eyes ahead, they’re not risking going up against lizards entering from other locations. They’ve closed and reopened the shipyard doors, trying to stem the tide but the lizards just redeployed elsewhere, so they opened it back up and are hammering them on the way in. Numerically that seemed like the best option. They’re not good blowing themselves up in open water where the arrowheads can hit them at speed.”
“Current estimates put the infantry count over 30,000. I’ve killed at least 200 of that, and the others have racked up a considerable amount…but the arrowheads are only stunning most of their victims. They’re reengaging once they wake up, which is why we’ve been snagging as many loose weapons lying around as possible.”
“They’ve got to stop those troop ships. By any chance did you find out where they were coming from?”
“Partially. I found some bread crumbs to follow back to what I hope will be their base, but it isn’t doing us much good right now. The battleships are continuing to hop over the fence and whittle down the enemy fleet, but more ships keep arriving like clockwork.”
“They have to run out at some point,” Kyler argued, wishing he knew when that would be.
“I agree. But there’s not much more we can do from down here. We need to get back to the city and resupply. I’m already getting dehydrated, ironic as that sounds.”
“How long before the others get here?”
“Long enough for you to grab a nap. Pick a corner and I’ll wake you when we’re ready to move. We’ve started clearing a path already. When we go we’ll all go and fight our way into open ocean. I’ve already arranged for pickup if we can get there.”
“I’ll take it,” Kyler said, grateful that the others were already a couple steps ahead of him. “You might need to ring my bell when the time comes. Don’t know if I’ll respond to the comm.”
“Sleep. We’ll handle the rest,” Vander said before jetting off.
8
Kyler woke up suddenly, finding a bit of drool stuck to the side of his mouth as his head fought to bring him up to speed from his power nap. He looked around, his eyes hurting for a moment under the bright lights of the Manaan cafeteria, then he saw Vander standing across from him.
“Sorry. I would have let you sleep, but the other trailblazers want to talk to you.”
Kyler swiped his face clean, then drank what was left of his bottle of water in three gulps.
“Ok, give me a minute.”
“Take two,” his fellow Archon said, leaving him to find his own way to a comm terminal.
Kyler looked down at his watch…he must have been out for nearly an hour. He didn’t remember putting his head down on the table, nor much else at the moment, aside from getting back into the city, out of his armor, a brief shower, and chowing down on ambrosia wafers and concentrated foodstuffs…not to mention three bottles of water that were still sitting before him, now empty.
He must have dozed off without realizing it. With an hour gone by the lizard infantry should still have been outside the blast doors chewing into them with their det packs…and if they’d gotten through early Vander would have said something.
Kyler shook the haze from his head and stood up, leaving his tray where it was on the off chance he’d be able to come back and finish the food left on it. He briskly walked out of the cafeteria and grabbed the nearest elevator, taking it up to the command level and claiming one of the unused command nexuses. When he powered it up he did a quick check of their situation, seeing it was unchanged, right down to the infantry contacts crossing the sea floor enroute to the entry points they’d blasted into the buildings.
Kyler, Vander, and the other Archons had gotten out through one of those breaches, after fighting their way through a couple of lightly defended tunnels and the lizards basing in the building. With surprise on their side they’d gotten through without too much hassle, breaking out into open water in the face of the incoming lizards. They’d briefly fought off some of them, up until a series of streaks and arrowheads got to them and carried the Archons over to the main hangar where they dumped them off before going back out to try and thin the infantry a bit more.
He switched over to communications mode and searched for incoming queries, finding that three were currently active. He joined the linked conversation and three holograms appeared of Paul, Sara, and Rafa.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Fighting’s pretty much done up here,” Sara said, her short blonde hair bobbing slightly as she moved her head to face Kyler’s hologram in her own command nexus. “What’s your situation?”
“Too many ants to stomp on,” Kyler said, disgusted. “Their infantry are running right through our defenses, no matter how many we stun or kill. We need shield generators on the fence so we can selectively block off sections we want, because they’re coming in anywhere and everywhere…and in far greater numbers than I thought the lizards could field. Basically we screwed the tactical pooch on this one.”
“Are we going to lose the city?” Rafa asked.
Kyler’s head wavered. “50/50. They’re not into the main structure yet, but they’re pounding on the doors. If we could stem the flow of their reinforcements I’d say we could hold out, but they’re continuing to pour more in and I don’t know how many more they’ve got to send our way.”
“Too small for the battleships to handle?” Paul guessed.
Kyler nodded. “And we’ve all but used up our PDM stores.”
“What about resupply from the other cities?”
“I presume that’s already happening. I’ve been in the water a lot lately.”
“Need some extra hands?” Rafa offered.
“We need a plan,” Kyler countered, “to stop the reinforcements. The lizards found our weak spot and are hammering us through it. I don’t want to concede the city as a learning process, but I’m not sure what else we can do right now other than hold out and hope their reinforcements dry up.”
“How many spare sets of aquatic armor do you have?” Sara asked.
Kyler sighed. “I know we’ve got plenty, but I don’t have a number for you.”
“Did Ariel evacuate?” Paul asked.
“I believe so,” Kyler said, uncertain. “I was told all noncombat personnel were gone.”
“You look exhausted,” Rafa mentioned.
“Just woke up from a nap, so I’m better off than I was. With the outer buildings flooded we didn’t have a chance to rest.”
“No air pockets?” Paul asked.
“There are, but the pressure is so high we didn’t want to risk taking our helmets off. So we didn’t get a chance to eat, drink, or other things for a long time.”
“The lizards are unaffected by the pressure?” Sara wondered.
“Didn’t take that close of a look, but they’re not wearing any environment gear, so I’d assume they’re built for at least this depth.”
“How many do they have in play?” Paul asked, his eyes narrowed to slits.
“Thousands, tens of thousands…it’s impossible to say. Most are staying so close to the sea floor on approach that the sensors are having a hard time picking them up unless we’ve got a craft nearby. Plus there are so many bodies in the water it’s difficult to tell what’s alive, what’s stunned, and what’s dead.”
“What’s your best weapon, hand to hand?” Rafa pressed.
“Their own plasma rods. We don’t have to worry about running out of ammo, and the stun sticks only take them out of the game temporarily. The arrowheads are only delaying their movements rather than killing them. We need a modular option that we can fit them with that will do damage on contact.”
“We’ve already been discussing this, Kyler,” Sara said, glancing at the other two holograms. “Do you concur that the only way to save the city is to take the lizards hand to hand?”
“At this point I wish I knew another way, but that’s the only option we have left. Then again I’m sleep deprived, so maybe I’m missing something. Do you see another option?”
“Send the battleships outside the fence all at once,” Paul offered. “Gang up on select portions of their fleet and destroy it. That will diminish their options for reinforcement.”
“They’ve already been doing that individually. The lizards have too many ships…plus, they are killing some of the infantry, and every one we don’t have to take hand to hand is helpful.”
“Are the battleships in danger?” Paul pressed.
“They’ve already taken some hull damage, but they have the advantage of being able to redeploy where the enemy can’t follow. So long as the Captains are smart about it, they’ll continue to pick apart the enemy until they run out of ships. Problem is, they keep getting more.”
“Staggered reinforcements or coming from a nearby staging area we can’t track?”
Kyler hesitated, his mouth half open. “Vander found something, but I never got a chance to ask him about it. He referred to it as breadcrumbs.”
“He already filed a report,” Sara offered. “He found a comm relay network, line of sight, which is why we haven’t been able to track their communications.”
“How far out?” Kyler asked, his mind working quickly as a shot of adrenaline hit him. A relay network explained a lot, but it also meant the enemy’s infrastructure was far closer than he’d guessed.
“Here,” Sara said, bringing up the schematics for him. The relay looked like some kind of sea bulb attached by a tether to the rock below. It held suspended in mid water, far enough up to be able to pass signals around the curve of the planet. The lizard tech was larger than one of their corvettes, but was totally smooth on the surface, and Kyler recognized their standard hull armor on it, meaning that it wouldn’t show up on sensors unless the probing ship was within a few kilometers of it.
“He also pulled this,” she continued, bringing up tracking data that expanded out the holographic map and included several other points around Manaan, as well as two points on four other lines headed away from the relay. Kyler knew instantly why two…it was in case the nearest link in the chain became disabled, so the relay could try and transmit double the distance to the next link, while maintaining secrecy over the location of the others in case it was discovered and accessed.
“He got into it?” Kyler wondered aloud.
“Software hack,” Rafa offered. “From what we he surmised, they’ve been communicating exclusively through these relays for some time. Meaning they’ve been setting up for this assault for more than a year, I’d guess.”
“Longer than that,” Kyler said, a glimmer of hope beginning to form in the back of his mind. “Paul, can I borrow some rail guns?”
“Way ahead of you,” he said, cracking a smile for the first time since the battle station was destroyed. “I’ve got ships standing by in low orbit. But if we take them out, we won’t have anything to study.”
“Hold up,” Sara said, raising a ‘stop’ hand for emphasis. “These are in a grid pattern. Taking one link out won’t necessarily cut their communications. We need to get all of them, and we don’t have position data for the other side of the city.”
“If the skies stay clear I can get those the same way Vander did…however he did,” Kyler said, double checking his thought processes. “If you’ve got warships in atmosphere to cover us, I’d say this is doable.”
“You think it’ll make enough of a difference?” Rafa asked.
“If it blinds their commanders sitting back at their bases, yes, it’ll be worth it,” Kyler assured him. “They’ve been very coordinated thus far, and if we take that away from them they’ll start getting sloppy again. I’d bet 1000 credits on that.”
“That’s assuming their commanders aren’t on site.”
“All of these ships are expendable,” Kyler said assuredly. “So long as they damage or take the city, they don’t care how many die. If they’ve got a mastermind organizing all of this, it won’t be in harm’s way.”
“I agree,” Paul said, his voice icy cold. “We cut the link and see what happens. If nothing else, they won’t be able to monitor their own progress unless they use conventional comms, and I don’t see any relay points above the surface for them to transmit to, unless the mid orbital fleets have very good receivers.”
“They might,” Rafa pointed out, “but anything of theirs we can bust up is a good thing at this point. Kyler, do they have anything in the tunnels aside from infantry?”
“Infantry with det packs, but nothing else that we’ve found. The breach points are too small for sharks and the shipyard entrance is guarded. Besides, anything bigger would have trouble getting past the battleships. So no, it’s just infantry. A whole lot of infantry.”
“Time to get our feet wet then,” he pressed. “We’ve got our custom armor, but the other Archons will have to suit up when we get to the city. See if you can find out how many you have before we head down.”
“On it,” Kyler promised as the three holograms winked out in sequence.
Paul sat in the cargo bay of one of his dropships along with a hoard of other Archons pulled off duty on his warships in orbit as they descended through the atmosphere towards the section of ocean that held Manaan. Ahead of them were several drone warships, part of which were making sure the skies stayed clear of lizards while a few others were hovering over the waves and making pinpoint rail gun strikes down into the water to hit the shallow comm relays. Meanwhile the lizard fleets around the submerged city increased their depth once they realized the warships were overhead.
All the way down on the sea floor they were safe, and there they stayed, as if hiding from the sunlight above.
That wouldn’t matter to Paul’s group, because they were headed inside the fence, not outside where the battleships were taking what advantage they could from the lizards being surface shy. Still, more transports and aquatics warships were arriving in shifts, replacing those Star Force was killing, more or less. Given the practice they were getting, the battleships were getting good at making short raids over the barrier and their kill count was increasing each time they did, while taking only minimal damage themselves.
Paul didn’t focus on that, or any other part of the overall battle plan. His part was simple…swim and kill lizards the way only Archons could, and he had plenty of pent up anger to sustain him for a long engagement.
Those seated next to him on the pull out benches in the Falcon-class dropship would be doing the same, though with less reckless abandon. While aquatics armor wasn’t as varied as their normal sets were, there were still differences between the adept, acolyte, and ranger versions, making his custom set more robust than what the others had, save for Sara, Rafa, Kyler, and Emily who all had identical ranger armor, save for the fittings.
It was heavier than the others, but not by much, giving him a bit more protection while maintaining his available speed. The biggest difference came in the style of the armor, which was far less bulky than the adept armor, which was little more than flexible turtle shells. The acolyte version was in between, offering more range of movement and slightly heavier armor plating, but containing less volume of such. It was a tradeoff meant to emphasize the swimming agility of the wearer…those who had little got the bulkier sets, figuring they were going to be taking extra hits anyway.
In order to reach ranger status, Paul and the others had to achievement benchmarks in all five areas of combat, plus now psionics, meaning that even though he didn’t care for the water he’d become quite skilled in it. And in this case, where his nose was safely inside an air pocket within his helmet, he didn’t suffer from as much of a disadvantage as he did when directly in the water, making him more than deserving of the heavier, but more agile set of ranger aquatics armor.
He’d outfitted his with several mods, one of which was a stun stick built into the right forearm that he could jab with while leaving his hand free. Another was a bubble shield attached to his back, his extra insurance if they were to come across any lizards with det packs and itchy trigger fingers.
“30 seconds,” he heard over his helmet comm, prompting him and the other Archons in the bay to stand up and grab their gear, most of which was already attached to their bodies at some point, though some carried physical shields meant for land combat. Paul figured they’d work about the same as the lizards’ shield gauntlets, save for you couldn’t see through them. That, and the physical ones would probably stand up to more plasma strikes than a shield matrix.
A crack in the rear of the ship opened up, lowering into a boarding ramp that hung out over the ocean. Nothing was visible on the horizon…just more and more water, eliciting a bit of a warning tingle down Paul’s spine. That was a lot of nowhere to get lost in, had there not been a city underneath them. His brain knew there was, but his eyes didn’t agree, giving him the impression that they were about to walk out into the middle of nowhere.
The Archons ahead of him didn’t hesitate and began dropping out of view two by two. When Paul got up to the edge he saw that the dropship pilot had the ship drifting forward so they wouldn’t land on top of each other, which was smart. He gave the acolyte ahead of him a second and a half head start then he walked off the edge and dropped several meters straight down through the air until his feet hit the water and his armored form cut into the ocean like a knife.
His battlemap shifted automatically to an underwater view, but his eyes were ahead of it, picking up the myriad of lights visible in the otherwise dark beneath them. To their northwest was the greatest concentration, which he knew was the main city structure. They weren’t headed there, but rather down to one of the lizard breach points in a nearby building.
To that end he fell into line and followed the others as they inverted and started swiftly jetting down to the sea floor more than a mile below.
9
All the incoming Archons met up at the same location on the sea floor, with Paul’s group arriving in about the middle. Sara and Kyler were both already in position, fighting off the scattering of lizards heading to the breach point they’d chosen to insert from. Paul let them continue, dropping down inside their circular perimeter on the edge of the bioharvest facility’s armored dome where the lizards’ det packs had broken through.
Unlike the blast doors currently holding the lizards back from the main building, the armor covering the surface buildings was lower grade, mass produced bulk armor, designed to take all sorts of nicks and dings without compromising the interior…but it wasn’t designed to stand up to significant weapons fire. That said, it was chemically designed to resist fracture, meaning that the blast point hadn’t translated up through the rest of the structure. Only the small area nearby Paul had been pulverized, absorbing the blast and letting Star Force have only a small repair job ahead of them rather than replacing football field long cracks throughout the entire dome.
Paul’s feet hit the angled surface, but the tread on his aquatic boots caught enough to support his almost neutral body weight. There he watched the other Archons assembling around him, most on the flat seafloor, while keeping their suit lights off. He could see their ID tags, however, given they were all transmitting into the battlemap and the holographic overlay set on the inside of his faceplate.
There he and the others waited as 338 handpicked Archons from the naval fleets gathered, then Kyler eventually swam over to his location with the other trailblazers following a few minutes later.
“Welcome to Atlantica,” he said over the comm to the naval expert, both of whom were wearing green armor as opposed to the silvers and reds around them.
“It’s a lot bigger from this perspective,” Paul said, referencing his normal orbital view.
“You ready for this?”
“Are you?” Paul quipped.
“I can sleep later. I want these guys off our doorstep.”
“Let’s start sweeping then.”
Kyler pulled up a special version of the battlemap that allowed him to share it with Paul, then using his forearm controls he began drawing routes on it.
“Six routes. These will hit the major staging areas in this hemisphere. We play venators, starting by heading here,” he said, pointing to a small building that had three different tunnels connecting to it. “Then we play it by ear and go where we find the most targets.”
“Weapons?”
“There will be plenty just inside. We’ve hit this location before.”
“Assuming the lizards haven’t clean up.”
“They were littering the floor last I was here, so don’t worry. Save those needlers for the det packs.”
“You picked up any outside?”
“A few, we’re…” he paused as ripple ran through the water and shifted them aside slightly, “detonating now.”
Another set of green armor swam up next to them with dozens of other Archons trailing in her wake.
“What are we waiting on?” Emily asked.
Kyler shot her the battlemap with the routes tagged. “The five of us are going out on our own, so we need to split the others into assault groups headed up by my guys. As soon as we get them divvied up equally we’re going in.”
“Odd play,” she commented.
“We’re staying on the move,” Kyler explained, and Emily knew instantly what he meant based on their prior experience, dating all the way back to when they were trainees.
“I’m down with that,” Rafa said, swimming up to the group.
“One to go,” Paul commented.
“I’m here,” Sara said from afar. “Get going.”
Kyler didn’t hesitate, flipping head for heels and jetting straight down into the breach and ‘crawling’ through. Paul went in right on his heels, stun stick extended, and was met with resistance immediately on the other side of the small broken tunnel he came out of.
Kyler fended off two jabs from lizards flanking the entrance, but given he’d sensed their positions he’d scooted out of the breach at speed and made them miss behind him. The plasma nubs nearly hit each other directly in front of Paul, who reached out and grabbed the right one, tugging it and the lizard that held it in towards him where he jabbed him with the stun stick in his forearm.
A quick Fornax blast to the other’s mind kept him from getting hit, and he knocked the tip of its weapon aside with his stun stick before reaching his arm up and poking it in the ribs, then he jetted forward and cleared the breach for the others to come through.
Meanwhile Kyler was engaging a handful of others who’d been hanging around the entry point, but he soon plowed through them, coming out into the next room with plasma rod in hand and another five kills to his credit.
“Form on me,” Kyler said on his private comm channel to the other trailblazers, then he switched to another he’d reserved for his assault team leaders. “Entry point secure, we’re heading out. Proceed at best speed.”
With that last order he jetted off at half speed, knowing the others would catch up with him, and picked almost random directions to travel, getting off the routes the others would be taking and ‘into the weeds’ so to speak. If the lizards were going to coordinate their defenses against them, he wanted them tracking his group and not fully prepping for the main kill squads.
Two and a half hours later the five trailblazers were halfway around the perimeter of the city, having kept moving and killing constantly, now more than 3 miles away from the closest of the assault groups. There were more than enough lizards in play for all the Archons to have their fill, and the rangers were focused on killing as many of them as they could rather than clearing out sections of the city.
The assault groups were proceeding in that regard, though they couldn’t lock down any of the buildings given the explosives damage, not only on the hull but inside where security doors had been shut to try and stall the lizards advance…and had been subsequently destroyed to allow them to progress. That said, they were proceeding building by building and killing all they came across, attempting to provoke a counterattack or at minimum kill all the lizards in a given area and eliminate the field bases they were setting up inside.
“Kyler, the lizard ships are breaking off,” Linda’s voice broke in suddenly to the trailblazer’s helmet.
“Say again?”
“I don’t know what’s happening, but every ship within sensor range is turning about and leaving. Their infantry on the fence line are also turning around for pick up. Those inside are still advancing, but it looks like you’ve got a finite number to work with now.”
“What the hell happened?” he asked, following Sara’s feet as she led the ranger group through a zigzag course around the inner edge of an industrial building.
“It wasn’t the battleships, they’re all currently inside the fence, and the lizards just got a group of reinforcements 10 minutes ago. I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Keep me updated,” he said, switching over to his teamcomm. “Guys, the lizard fleet is bugging out. Their infantry inside the perimeter is still coming, but the flow has dried up. I don’t know how many we’ve got left to deal with, but we can finish this.”
“Good news,” Sara commented, raising her plasma rod up as all five of the rangers sensed lizard minds gathered ahead around the next corner. “How close are they to breaking through the doors?”
“A few inches, as of 20 minutes ago. I haven’t gotten an updated report, so I don’t think they’re through yet. They cad hold if we can thin the reinforcements further. The doors aren’t going to come down when they poke a hole in them, so they’ll have a shooting spree for a while until the lizards widen the gap. If we can keep up our kill rate we’ve got this.”
“Why are they pulling back?” Paul asked, swimming fourth in their staggered line.
“Control is working on it, but right now I don’t care so long as they’re not dropping off more infantry.”
“Maybe they ran out,” Rafa suggested.
“Had to happen sometime,” Emily added.
“Heads up,” Sara warned unnecessarily as she got to the corner. As was their standard operating procedure, she came up and veered off, engaging the closest lizard while making room for the others to come through. Individualized Fornax blasts were the name of the game, with each trailblazer choosing, then disabling their targets as they swam up and jabbed them with the enemy’s own weapons, burning into their scaly flesh with the plasma nubs.
They worked their way through the group of 20 or so in a flurry of steam bubbles, leaving behind a trail of bodies as they swapped out plasma rods on the go, swimming out the backside of the engagement, barely losing 15 seconds from where they would have been had it been a clear hallway.
Once they were clear Paul accessed his battlemap, seeing for himself the lizard aquatics warships pulling back and retreating in a number of groups out to where they disappeared from Star Force’s limited sensor range. Some of their ships were holding position, which he saw were comprised mostly of their infantry carriers, picking up nearby lizards before bugging out.
He frowned, knowing this wasn’t their standard operating procedure. Star Force was getting hammered, and while the battleships were holding the lizards’ ships to the perimeter their infantry were near to penetrating the main city…why would they give up now when they were so close?
It couldn’t have been them, for while they were killing the lizards left and right, there were thousands more out there operating with impunity that they just didn’t have time to get to. No, something else was going on, and part of Paul’s mind said this might be part of a larger gambit.
“Wondering what they’re up to?” Sara asked on a private comm.
“It doesn’t make sense,” he said, knowing she was well aware of their naval habits in orbit. The lizards didn’t give an inch, unless it was beneficial to them in some way. And when you gave them an inch, they’d take the proverbial mile.
“I agree, but it gives us a finish line for the moment. Control estimates 10,000 to 15,000 left in play.”
“Oh, that’s all?” Paul asked sarcastically.
“They’re going to run out of det packs.”
“True,” Paul said, glad for that. The only trouble they’d had with the infantry so far had come from their suicide squads, of which they’d dealt with five, all at range with their needlers. One pack had detonated anyway, and even though it was at distance, they still got a bit shell shocked from the blast as the concussion wave knocked them around the narrow hallway they were in at the time.
“Ok guys,” Kyler broke in over the teamcomm, “time to ramp it up. We need to work our way here,” he said, giving everyone a new waypoint that was kilometers away from their current position, marking the location of one of the tunnel entrances into the city that was under assault.
“Just us?” Emily asked.
“Hit and run,” Kyler explained as he felt more lizard minds nearby. “I don’t expect we’ll be able to take the doors back, but if we can thin them down it’ll help the defending teams if/when they get through.”
“I think we can do a bit more than that, Kyler,” Rafa argued.
“Well I could,” he came back, “but I wasn’t sure about you space monkeys.”
“Ha,” Emily laughed. “You’re going to pay for that when this is over.”
“How do you plan on that?” Kyler asked.
“Paul knows.”
“Knows what?” Kyler asked him.
“Sorry, it’s a 2s thing. I’m sworn to secrecy,” he said, not having a clue what Emily was talking about, and fairly certain she didn’t either…but Kyler didn’t know that.
“At least you have something to look forward to,” Rafa said with a laugh. “Sara, my lead,” he said, jetting ahead in line just before they came up on another small group of lizards.
The rangers worked their way through the buildings and connecting tunnels in an erratic path, but one that kept them heading more or less towards the city entrance that Kyler had tagged. Meanwhile, what was left of the lizard reinforcements had reached their breach points and entered the subterranean structures, leaving the stragglers outside exposed for the arrowheads and other Star Force craft to pick them off.
When the all clear was sounded for the seafloor some time later, the remaining arrowheads diverted for the shipyard and dove down into the tunnels, coordinating with the assault teams so they could ‘plow the road’ of the larger lizard formations while the Archon teams scouted out the locations of the remaining det packs. With that coordination established the arrowhead pilots ran their craft through the lizard groups until they became disabled from plasma nub impacts, then they evacuated them and took their place fighting hand to hand with the infantry.
It was a calculated strategy, sacrificing the arrowheads in exchange for disrupting the lizard strongpoints that otherwise would have taken hours to work through. The Archons knew better than to charge into overwhelming numbers, for they didn’t consider even so much as one of their own to be expendable. That meant nibbling away with raids and faints to break down the lizard lines into workable groups…which the arrowheads accomplished much quicker.
That was, unless you were rangers.
When the trailblazers finally came out into the main tunnel that led up to the city entrance they were more than 2 kilometers away, but the entire length of the none too narrow shaft was full of lizards waiting to go into battle, not only in the direction of the city, but out to their left as well for who knew how far down the tunnel.
Normally that would have meant turning tail and trying to draw them back into the adjacent building where they could work through them piecemeal, but not today. Whether it be an overabundance of confidence or just plain fatigue, the rangers didn’t hesitate to jump into the fray. They swam out and gave each other some gaps, allowing the lizards to surround each one of them and attack from multiple angles like tiny piranhas going after a larger fish…not the best strategy in the world.
Unless you had psionics, and you needed the extra gaps to keep from disabling your own teammates.
The five trailblazers swam out like fingers extending from the side entrance in the tunnel, and once they’d accumulated enough lizards around them jabbing in at them with their glowing green plasma rods the Archons began unleashing Fornax disruption fields…not blasts. These extended out a few meters in all directions and held their intensity, essentially blinding the lizards’ nervous systems with white noise, allowing each of the rangers a few moments of impunity to swim up and kill the enemy without them even knowing what was happening.
Each of the Archons could hold the Fornax for varying lengths of time, with Kyler being the weakest given how much mental energy he’d depleted earlier. They had a finite amount that gradually regenerated, but he’d never had time to fully recharge and had been operating off of the bottom half of the barrel while the others had come into this fight on full.
That said, he still had enough to work his way through the center of their formation, giving him the cleanup work in the middle of the tunnel while the others spread out in either direction, meaning he’d have to use less than them. Within two minutes the section of tunnel directly outside the entrance to the building they’d come through was littered with lizard corpses, with Kyler swimming about the middle of it all hunting the few that had survived in the chaos.
He used Fornax blasts to target them individually, conserving his energy and keeping them off the others, who were even now spreading out in either direction. Once he caught the last lizards and disposed of them he floated stationary for a moment, doing a quick mental perimeter check to make sure he hadn’t missed any, then he started putting waypoints in the tunnel for the others to work off of, essentially splitting up the lizard hoard and navigating a path through to the next building entrance, knowing they couldn’t fight in a corpse field that would get progressively more and more dense.
Paul and Emily, doing their well practiced 2s tag team, reversed course and came back towards Kyler through the corpses as he headed out behind Rafa and Sara as they pushed into the lizards on the city side. Those were accumulating so thick you had trouble seeing past them down the tunnel. Hundreds of little glowing green orbs were spread amongst them like berries on a tree, making for a formidable wall of plasma and flesh, but the Archons didn’t hesitate.
The wall suddenly buckled in two places as Rafa went low and Sara high, ‘detonating’ Fornax fields that caused the lizards within a few meters of them to go all twitchy, with half of them dropping their weapons when they could no longer control their fingers.
From behind Paul and Emily reached out and touched some of the lizards’ minds in another manner, using their Ikrid to implant the image of an enemy on their flanks, causing some of the lizards to flinch or even jab at their fellow troops from the feint. Two of the hits succeeded, injuring one and killing another, but also resulting in spreading chaos as the lizards behind them saw what they thought were ‘traitors’ attacking each other.
To their credit they didn’t swarm over each other in a killing frenzy, but the once solid line of bodies was now a mash of confusion with two Archon prongs digging deeper and deeper inside.
Kyler followed them up by punching into the middle, then Paul and Emily jumped in on the flanks following the waypoints Kyler had set down earlier, all of which kept them spaced out from each other enough not to worry about interfering with each other’s psionics, for as good as they’d gotten with generating Fornax, they weren’t very good at defending against it, especially when they didn’t know it was incoming.
Formation spacing was an old tactic, and not one that even the chaos of an underwater battle was going to shake them from, so, doing the seemingly impossible, the five trailblazers fought their way through the tunnel thick with living lizards leaving a trail of dead in their wake that the living from the opposite side were maneuvering their way through to try and catch up and cut off the Humans from behind…which they did.
But that didn’t shake the rangers either, for they were intent on fighting mobile and didn’t care what was more than a few meters away from them. Block, punch, kick, Fornax, jab, and repeat was the trend, though not always in that order, with the waypoints their only other concern. Fighting their way from one to the other they pushed through the schools of lizards until they got to another building entrance on the length of the tunnel, but still far short of the main building. There they ducked inside, fighting through still more lizards on the interior but far thinner in numbers than outside.
The Archons fled through several rooms, drawing pursuit their way and encountering others enroute as they caught their collective breath, knowing that there was no way they’d have the strength to go all the way up the tunnel to the main entrance…at least not all at once.
“What I wouldn’t give for a streak right now,” Rafa commented as they ducked into a storage area that was currently empty, with Sara and Paul floating out of sight beside the door to ambush any lizards that followed them in.
“Tell me about it,” Kyler said, breathing hard inside his armor. That many lizards all lined up in a row. Even if the craft didn’t fire any weapons, it’d literally squish the lizards against the walls given how many of them there were, but there was no way to get one into these tunnels, and an arrowhead would get overwhelmed within meters, clogged up with bodies and pinned in place long enough to get skewered with plasma nubs.
“Thank you,” Paul said as a lizard swam in and he leveraged the plasma rod out of its hand, replacing the one he’d been carrying that must have been low on power by now. Sara jabbed the lizard with hers and kicked the body aside, waiting for the next one to come through. “Where now, Kyler?”
“Working on it,” the trailblazer said, setting new waypoints on the battlemap.
10
Weston Pratt stood on the inside of the blast doors along with dozens of other Regulars, all in aquatics armor more bulky than what the Archons wore. It was colored deep blue and had the same jet thruster system, but at the moment it was cumbersome to wear because Pratt and the others were waiting in atmosphere, not water, as the lizards continued to pound on the doors with occasional blasts.
Two weak spots were visible, both of which had dime-sized holes in them that were leaking water. A containment shield set just inside the doors was holding it back, and by now an inch think wall had risen up to the level of the holes, with the atmosphere above it contained and compressed. Each subsequent det pack blast would vaporize the water, but so far the shield had held up, given that only a tiny bit of the compression wave was getting through, but each time more of the sturdy door material would be chipped away, enlarging the holes.
Pratt and the other Regulars knew it would take a lot of time for them to chew out a hole big enough to come through, and then they’d be bottlenecked enough to turn the area into a shooting gallery. He and the other aquatics Regulars were armed with plasma rifles, stun sticks, and needlers as backup, hoping that since the shield generators were set on this side of the doors that they’d remain active, whereas the lizards had been destroying the others out in the tunnels by blasting into the hardware set into the walls.
They couldn’t do that here, because there was no way they were going to be able to set up det packs on this side unless they could get through the defenders first. That meant that the shields, even when breached, would regenerate and keep most of the water out. That was the hope, anyway, for so long as their weapons stayed dry they could shoot the lizards from range with plasma and hold this position indefinitely…or at least until the number of bodies offered the lizards cover and they smuggled through a det pack.
Which was why Pratt and several others had been tagged as ‘cleaning teams’ who would retrieve and remove the lizard corpses when there were lulls in the fighting, hoping to keep the firing lines clear. He figured as long as they kept to the walls they’d be relatively safe, but with what was said to be thousands of lizards on the other side, who knew what was about to happen, though he was confident they would be able to mow down a great number of them before they could overwhelm this position.
Several fallback points had already been arranged within the city, and they were determined to bleed the lizards of infantry at all moments of opportunity. He didn’t know if he’d prefer to fight in the air or the water, but they were all wearing the aquatics armor just in case the city became flooded, otherwise they would have donned the standard security armor.
Two more blasts occurred over the next 10 minutes, opening up one of the holes to the size of his fist, then there was a long lull during which the Regulars waited…and waited. They’d been stationed here for hours, with some rotating out occasionally to try and stay fresh. They didn’t know when the doors would go down, or which doors would go down first, but they knew they need to be on site when it happened to take maximum advantage of the partial breaks when they occurred.
“Wake up guys, time to get wet,” his commander said over their teamcomm just before the doors began to retract into the walls. “Archons are moving up from the outside, we’re going to hit their rear. Squads 1, 4, and 7 stay put on this side of the shield, everyone else leave your plasmas behind. Empty your needlers then grab the enemy’s weapons. Let’s get to it.”
Pratt was squad 6, so that meant he was going through. As the doors opened up a meter he set his plasma rifle down and pulled out his needler, then took another from one of the defense squad members who offered it to him. Dual wielding, he hopped over the barricades they’d set up and walked forward as the crack between the damaged doors widened.
The commander jogged up to the shield holding back the water as the first of the lizards pushed their way through and were hit by plasma snipers in the back who’d stood up on the crates to get a better angle. Those lizards fell dead just before the commander got to the shield and stuck his needler through into the water. There he fired of a pointblank shot that detonated a meter ahead, killing a lizard and knocking back several more.
One up high on the doors came through the shield, apparently not realizing it wasn’t flooded on the other side, and popped out 4 meters up only to fall down on top of the Regulars…but after receiving a plasma hit on the way down. Another of the Regulars got to it before Pratt could and stunned it unconscious, then the commander and several others spread out along the growing gap between the doors and fired off PDM after PDM into the water side of the shield, annihilating the lizards on the other side in a cascade of explosions that rippled the shield matrix with waves of static.
“Go,” Pratt heard over the teamcomm, then as one four of the Regulars pushed through the shield, firing off more PDMs as they went. Once inside, they jetted up a couple of meters in the water, clearing room for another four to come through beneath them.
Pratt didn’t get wet until several more groups went through, fanning out to five wide, then six. When he did get in he had a clear shot at hoards of lizards ahead of him, but he only got off a few needler shots before the commander ordered them to change tactics.
“Cease fire with the needlers. We have Archons on the other side. Engage hand to hand.”
Pratt hooked both needlers onto the hooks on the back of his armor and picked up one of the lizards’ weapons near his feet while the Regulars above him jetted forward with stun sticks. He followed underneath their feet and traded jabs with a lizard. His blue armor bubbled and burnt, but the plasma nub didn’t get through, whereas the lizard had no armor and suffered a plasma blast directly to its scaly chest.
Pratt kicked it back and jabbed at the shoulder of another that was engaging the Regular beside him. Their plasma rods were crossed, giving him a good opportunity to break the stalemate. With its shoulder charred, the other Regular was able to get the leverage he needed and finished it off with a touch to the head.
That sort of close quarters combat went on for several minutes before Pratt finally saw one of the Archons. He almost got caught off guard when he saw that there were not one, but five trailblazers on the other side, based on their ID tags, and took a partial hit to his left arm before he wrestled the lizard around enough to expose its back to another Regular that jabbed it for him.
Then the pressure from the lizards subsided. In front of him Paul was knocking them down left and right and Pratt had to start looking for more targets to attack. Two minutes later and the commander ordered them into hunting mode for stunned or injured lizards to make sure there wouldn’t be any surprises later, given how many bodies were clogging the tunnel. Pratt was shocked when he literally couldn’t see more than 70-80 meters down the tunnel. There was that many corpses floating from top to bottom, most of which were due to the Archons’ handiwork.
Kyler worked his way up to the shield and down to the floor, then walked through the barrier to the air side and gratefully pulled his helmet off and sucked in a fresh breath. Paul and Rafa came through next, followed by Emily and Sara, all of whom likewise removed their helmets as they walked forward awkwardly, both from fatigue and being in neutral buoyancy for hours on end.
“That was fun,” Emily said, hopping over the barricades and getting behind the defense squads in case a lizard popped through and they needed to shoot it.
“Is it over?” one of the Regulars asked as the trailblazers worked their way through the defenders.
“Stay sharp,” Kyler warned. “There are so many bodies out there some live ones could ambush you, but the heavy fighting is done…here. The other entrances are still under assault.”
“Should we redeploy there?” the regular asked.
“Clean up here for now,” Kyler said as the trailblazers quietly walked past and headed towards the second line of barricades and began hopping over them.
“Holy shit,” one of the Regulars whispered once they were gone. “Did the five of them just clear out that?” he asked, pointing through the now completely open blast doors at the junkyard of lizard bodies clogging the tunnel.
“That’s why they’re wearing green,” another said, throwing one last glance at their retreating forms before turning his attention back to the shield and their now considerably easier job of holding this position.
8 hours later…
Paul brought a tray of warm, sugar-filled pastries out of the kitchen and set them down on the table the other four trailblazers had claimed in the otherwise empty cafeteria. The cooks, along with all other noncombat personnel, had been evacuated from the facility, leaving the Archons with prepackaged foodstuffs to gnaw on unless they wanted to cook for themselves. Fortunately there wasn’t much ‘cooking’ involved with Star Force food, and warming up the already baked pastries wasn’t something that required an excessive amount of intelligence.
The others had all brought out trays of their own. Rafa’s had plain pasta. Emily had brought out a stack of various cookies. Sara had a tray of breadsticks. And Kyler had a much smaller tray filled with ambrosia wafers, cookies, and all the other forms of laced foodstuffs they’d invented over the years to help them measure their intake without having to actually measure anything out.
Dozens of water bottles littered the table, some of which were already empty. One problem of fighting in pressurized water was the inability to remove your helmet and ingest anything, food or liquid, even if you found an air pocket, so the Archons had got thoroughly dehydrated during their fighting, something that Kyler intended to fix with an upgrade to the armor to carry a small water reserve inside, possibly one that could draw from the exterior like the oxygen generation system did.
When Paul’s tray hit the table the pastries began to vanish in a flurry of hands as each of the trailblazers added at least one to their individual plates. He sat down and bit one open himself, finding chocolate inside. He sat back in his seat and nibbled on it for a while, then worked his way up to larger mouthfuls until it disappeared from his fingers. He reached out and grabbed another one, not bothering to try his Lachka, given his state of mental fatigue and the size of the pastry.
The telekinesis might have drawn on a different pool of energy than his Fornax, but overall his head felt fried, as if he’d overworked his mental trigger to the point where it had pulverized and he had nothing but a stub left to work with.
“Anyone else fried?” he asked in between mouthfuls.
“Very,” Sara said, glancing at Kyler. “You’ve got to be dead.”
“I admit I’m feeling it, but I’m more used to the water than you guys are.”
“Liar,” Emily said with a smirk. “You’re barely staying awake.”
“Am I?” he asked honestly. “Maybe I’m still numb to it.”
“Probably,” Rafa said, grabbing a breadstick. “As soon as we get done here I’m grabbing a bunk and getting some long hours in.”
“Same here,” Emily agreed, then looked at Paul. “Did you find anything?”
“It was the relays,” he said, referring to his recent dive through the battlemap records while the others helped with various things around the city. The enemy infantry had been taken care of, they thought, but they were only beginning to clear out the nearest of the submerged buildings with the help of the recently arrived engineering crews from Ackbar. A team of Archons and Regulars were there now, pulling the bodies out and securing the exits as the breach in the hull was patched over and the damaged shield generators were repaired/replaced. Pretty soon they’d start pumping out the water in that section, then down the chain one building after another.
“I don’t get it,” Rafa said, frowning. “They’ve fought without coordination before. Why turn tail and run when we cut them off this time?”
“Two ideas,” Paul said, snagging another quick bite. “One, these aren’t their expeditionary troops. Two, this is a larger scale assault than we’re used to dealing with.”
“Not a raid,” Emily clarified.
“But they left almost exactly when the last of the relays were cut?” Rafa asked.
“There was a two minute delay,” Paul noted.
“I’m glad they did, but that doesn’t feel right,” Sara chimed in. “It’s like they let us off easy.”
Both Emily and Rafa glared at her.
“Ok, not easy, but why not at least let the rest of their infantry get to target. You said they recalled some of them that were already in the water.”
“Those closest to the fence,” Paul said, washing down his second pastry with a swig of water. “I agree with Sara that something is different here, and we’ve been seeing it in orbit too. They’re fighting smarter than they used to. Not more experienced, but more clever. And now with this bit of data, I’m betting it has to do with Thrawn.”
“Thrawn?” Rafa asked.
“He thinks they have a mastermind calling the shots,” Sara offered, explaining the Star Wars reference.
“Big man gets cut off,” Kyler said, thinking aloud, “little ones run away. Almost makes sense, save for it doesn’t fit their MO.”
“I know,” Paul admitted. “But I’m almost certain of it now.”
“One of the variants?” Emily floated.
“Could be, but I’m starting to think not. We recovered 11 lizard sets of genetics, but that was from an expeditionary group. Their main forces may have more than that…or we might be seeing a ruling faction and a lizard that wasn’t grown here, but shipped out from their core worlds.”
“Big man on campus?” Rafa asked.
“I don’t know if it’s an individual, group, or caste, but we’re facing more strategic and tactical wizardry than we have anywhere else. Agreed?”
The other four trailblazers nodded, all of whom continued to chew food.
“So the question is…where is Thrawn?”
Sara swallowed. “Not with their fleet, obviously. The relays kept them in contact.”
“How much water can they punch through anyway?” Rafa wondered. “Wouldn’t it be easier to link to orbit than through miles of water?”
“We’ve got control of low orbit,” Paul reminded him. “And we can hack part of their communications, which they obviously know by now. I suspect they’ve got several surface to orbit relays set up, or maybe they’re using cruisers in that regard, but I’d bet you the water relays operate differently than their normal comms, if for no other reason than to keep us from hacking into them.”
“Still, if they’ve got an attacking fleet here, why not just link directly to orbit for coordination. If a mile of water interferes with the signal too much, just send a couple ships up in a chain to transmit from.”
“If they’re using line of sight,” Emily suggested, “and we know the locations of their warships in orbit, then we could interfere with the signal.”
“That or they’re a binary operation,” Sara added. “One water, one space.”
“No,” Kyler said emphatically. “They’re integrated. The cruisers pull double duty.”
“It might be as simple a fact as Paul suggested,” Emily added. “They’re used to having control of orbit. Without that, they’re going to plan B and setting up the underwater relays.”
“So is Thrawn down here or up there?” Sara reiterated.
“Or both,” Paul added.
“I have to say down here,” Kyler offered. “Setting up the relays is too elaborate if you were leading this from space.”
“Too little data to speculate,” Rafa said, pulling the conversation back a bit. “All we know right now is that they are using underwater relays and that we’ve got at least one mastermind lizard in the system. So, next move?”
“Find and follow the relays,” Kyler said without hesitation. “To field the kind of fleet they just hit us with, they’ve got to have some massive infrastructure in play. Now that we’ve got a thread to follow we need to pursue it before they get a chance to cut ties. If I were them I’d remove the relay links closest by and set up new ones in their place.”
“What do you need to start?” Emily asked.
“Given the ranges involved, no less than a battleship.”
“What are you waiting for then?” Rafa asked.
Kyler’s eyes glazed over. “Good point,” he said, reaching for his ear and finding he had no earpiece in.
Paul reached up to give him his, only to discover that he hadn’t put one in either. He looked at the other three trailblazers and laughed when he saw they didn’t have any.
“How the hell did we all forget them?”
“Hungry I guess,” Kyler said, standing up to leave. “Don’t touch my tray. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
As he walked out Emily reached over and poked her index finger into one of his pastries, then pulled it back without taking anything. She licked a bit of vanilla icing off her fingernail as Rafa raised an eyebrow.
She smirked, then turned her attention back to her own plate as she deviously whispered, “Space monkeys.”
-----
1
May 18, 2430
Alpha Centauri System
Glasir
Shannon-103445 rode in the back of the Falcon-G dropship along with two other Archon adepts and a team of Knights from Clan Tron as the silver-plated ship rose up through the planet’s atmosphere leading a swarm of conventional dropships in its wake, all of which contained Clan combat personnel scrounged from Glasir. Their small colony on the planet held only 55,000, but Red Team had requested all local combat assistance they could offer, so Shannon and the other Archons on station had been dispatched to lead the Knights and Regulars out to the nearby moon of Tyr.
For Shannon, a level 34 adept, this was her first combat mission. She’d only recently been assigned to Alpha Centauri, having spent the past 83 years in Sol along with the other lower level Archons undergoing a slew of training missions and trials. She hadn’t progressed as fast as most of her original class, but she’d finally warranted a posting to another star system…one that was considered inconsequential and boring where she could be of limited use while she continued to train and upgrade her skills.
Neither she nor anyone else had expected Alpha Centauri, let alone Glasir, to be a hotbed of activity, but that was the universe for you. Once you think you’ve got things figured out it goes and upends your carefully constructed fiction, reminding you to look, listen, and learn…not guess and predict.
Shannon was ready, more than ready, and relished the chance to put her combat skills to use, despite not having much intel on the situation. She and the others were to report to the higher level Archons already on site and assist them with their current mission…and that was all she’d been told, though from the recent news stories making their way across planetary orbit and down to Glasir she knew there was at least some level of fighting already underway, with an Archon team being labeled as renegades to the general public.
Star Force had quickly shot that notion down with the rest of the public in the system, but Tyr’s open exchange of news had just as quickly clamped down thereafter, leaving what was currently going on as a mystery. Information wise the moon had gone dark, and if Red Team was requesting backup Shannon guessed something major was going down.
There were other Archons and troops in the system, far more on Odin than Glasir, but they’d made the call to bring them up from the nearby planet rather than send an assault force. Shannon wasn’t sure what that implied, so she just waited patiently as the dropship formation made a mini-jump towards the nearby moon with the gunship in the lead.
The Falcon-G was a modified dropship popular amongst the Clans. It had a broad range of weaponry, including bulky missile racks on the wings that cut down on its aerodynamics, but it was primarily designed for convoy defense and assaults on airless worlds, such as they were going to now. She knew Tyr had some anti-air defenses, and if it did her gunship would be the one to go in first and knock a hole in them to allow the unarmed dropships through to deliver their troops.
Shannon was also glad that they’d received their new shielded armor, which she’d gotten a custom set of only a year ago. That added an extra layer of protection that she hoped she wouldn’t need, but it was reassuring to know that she could take a few small hits and shrug them off without damage. The upgrade was a touch heavier than her old armor, but she agreed that the tradeoff was worth it…though until now she’d never had a chance to test it, or her skills, in real combat.
The other two Archons onboard the gunship variant both outranked her. In fact she was the lowest level adept assigned to this mission. All of Clan Tron’s Archons on Glasir were being deployed, along with groups from Clan Alterra and Clan Star Ranger, the other two Clans that had colonies on Glasir, both of which were larger than Clan Tron’s, given that they’d been the last to start building a little more than 30 years ago. The others had been on the planet for more than a century, and as such had much larger populations and Archon deployments.
When Shannon’s flotilla of dropships finally decelerated against Tyr’s gravity well they proceeded to drop into a slingshot orbit to get to the backside where the city was currently located, then dropped down to the surface and approached over land, skimming the airless, rocky landscape at an altitude of less than a kilometer and coming in at an angle following the instructions of those already in the city to bypass the intact anti-air defenses.
Red Team had already knocked out several, creating the opening, but many more still remained. A Star Force cutter was holding position over the northwest corner of the city, sitting in one of the defensive dead zones ready to assist should it become necessary, but given that the mission objective was to recover the city, Red Team had decided to disable the exterior defenses from the inside rather than slag them in a naval assault…but the cutter was standing by just in case that changed or any ships attempted to flee.
It was the smallest drone warship Star Force fielded, also shaped like a flying brick and far outmassing the dropships that flew in underneath its protective aura and down into one of the spaceports that Red Team had initially captured to facilitate the troop arrivals, though Shannon knew the city had many, for she’d been reviewing its schematics in helmet for the past hour as the teams were assembled.
When they passed through the containment shields the dropships set down in an orderly fashion, making rows in the area of the deck that had been cleared away. A variety of other ships were now parked around the perimeter, some of Star Force make, some not, and all Brazilian, while the Star Force reinforcements from Clan Alterra that had already arrived had sent their dropships back to Glasir so they wouldn’t be clogging the deck and blocking access for those yet to come in.
As soon as Shannon and her team disembarked from the Falcon-G it took off again, flying low to the ground and around into a waiting position for the surface entrance to clear, then it and those waiting in line behind it cycled back out as the grounded troops made their way to the spaceport exits.
A rally point popped up on Shannon’s battlemap, indicating that was where she was supposed to head to next, so she jogged off with the other two Archons with the Knights and Regulars following behind them in a phalanx and passed through a side entrance, seeing some of the other teams headed their way and some not.
When Shannon got through the archway and into the city interior she followed the battlemap to a nearby foyer where two other Archons were waiting for them, both adepts of Clan Alterra. When she stopped nearby she immediately got a comm reconfiguration prompt inside her helmet, which she followed, setting up familiar channels that she could toggle through during the mission.
“Here’s the situation,” Stan-47554 said over the comm while other teams were catching up from behind. Already the foyer had filled up, so Shannon guessed he wasn’t going to waste time waiting for the others to stack up behind them.
“Tyr has been seized by a criminal organization known as The Word. They’ve integrated themselves with the local population, making them believe that Brazil still controls the moon, so a lot of the people shooting at you probably think they’re just doing their job defending their colony and that you’re the bad guys. This is why you’ve packing stingers rather than plasma. Stun anyone that even looks at you the wrong way and we’ll sort out who’s who later.”
“Both Red Team and Green Team are on site and leading this mission. They’ve given us a number of locations to take and hold while they stay on the move, updating us with additional mission parameters as needed. The Word is pulling out, and they’re trying to snag as many of them as they can. We’ve got a cutter parked overhead to run down any ships that attempt to flee, but with 13 million people in this city The Word doesn’t have to go far to hide. They can blend into the population and hide out, then leave a year from now once things cool down.”
“They’re good at that, I’m told, which is why the big boys are running every which way hunting them down. We get to play king of the hill and hold what they take, collect and guard the prisoners they’re racking up, and do the ground work of actually reclaiming this city for Brazil.”
“Those of you with me are being tagged as Group 19. Head to the following waypoint. The rest of you stay here with Ian.”
Shannon’s battlemap didn’t update, so she assumed she hadn’t been assigned to that group. The other two adepts she’d rode in with had, so they began to move off along with a lot of the Knights, leaving mostly Regulars and a few others behind.
“We’re Group 20,” Ian-65939 said after the others left down the hallway to the east. “Unlike the other groups we have one and only one mission, and it takes us to the other side of the city. We’ll be using subsurface maintenance lines to get there, and a lot of running. Right now we don’t have an accessible spaceport in those areas, so this is as close as we can start from. The transit options within the city are also a no go. Brazilian security has virtually shut them all down, turning this city into a much larger playground.”
“Other teams are working on getting those back up and opening up another spaceport, but we can’t wait on that. Our target is here,” the adept said, updating all of their battlemaps with a mission objective waypoint. “This is the main environmental control unit, and ties into all the subsidiaries within the city. If this unit goes down the others can compensate, but it’s responsible for nearly a third of the air the population is breathing. We’re to take it and hold it against any sabotage efforts. Normally this would be a low priority, but Red Team has tagged it as a primary objective, so we need to get there as fast as possible while everyone else is distracted, which is why we’re taking the low road.”
“Archons on point followed by the Knights,” Ian said, referencing the four they’d been left with. “Regulars keep it close and tight. You,” Ian said, pointing at Shannon, “rear guard. Let’s move.”
With that last word Ian started running, albeit slowly, over to the northern door in the foyer with the rest of the Clan Tron troops arraying themselves as instructed. Shannon waited for them all to pass, then dropped in behind them, leaving a short gap between the last Regulars in their Tron Black armor and herself. That way she could rove about more freely, as well as provide a distance buffer should anyone come up and try to ambush the group from behind. It was sort of like being tagged as Venator, except that she had a moving target to center on.
Shannon kept an eye on the others via her battlemap, seeing the column of ID signatures start to make progress down through the city’s layers as she held back, keeping her eyes moving about from side to side all the while taking a few peeks at the position of the other groups. Some she could see on the overall city map, others not, given that the transmission range of their battlemap feeds were limited, but where there were individuals close enough to transmit the data down a relay line, they could keep tabs on where everyone was at, plus she noted the placements of several dedicated transmitters for just that task, further extending both their battlemap and comm range.
Also, the cutter overhead was acting as another relay, and with its broadcast power it could reach just about everywhere within the city, no matter how far down you went. Trick was, those units couldn’t communicate back up, so their positions were unmarked and would remain so until others came close to them.
Shannon knew they could carry more powerful transmitters on their racks, but those larger units were easy to track, meaning their enemies could use them to follow their movements. The battlemap network, as well as their communications, were low powered and configured in a way to be almost untraceable, keeping the Archons and those they were linked to as ghosts. And that was critical for the battlemap, which updated constantly.
They ran for the better part of an hour before making enemy contact, which amounted to a scattering of guards at one of the subsurface bottlenecks. The point men blew through it with ease, leaving only the unconscious bodies as testament for Shannon to see as the back of the formation ran past. From there they were back to traversing through the unpopulated underbelly of the city which, for its sparsity, was not convenient to travel through, for there were no straight line trajectories.
Shannon spent her time hanging off the back as the line on her battlemap snaked back and forth as Ian tagged waypoints ahead of them to travel to using the city schematics they had available, plotting their course a few minutes ahead of their current movements. So far they hadn’t hit any dead ends, but Shannon could tell from the architecture that that was just good planning on Ian’s part, for it was a maze of connections down here designed to be accessed from above, not laterally.
When the line stopped at a random waypoint Shannon guessed they were about to go up, seeing that the mission waypoint was not that far off, but there was no comm chatter so she just carried out her assignment as rear guard and kept watch. After several minutes of pausing the line began to move again and, like she guessed, they were going up a flight of stairs, which she hit a few seconds behind the last Regular in line.
At the top of some 18 flights they got off, though the stairs continued to go up, and ran through a populated building out to a street. Shannon saw several stunned bodies along the way, though none with weapons. She figured they’d gotten in the way or done something to hinder the Archons’ advancement, but the paint splatters on their civilian clothing weren’t telling and she didn’t have time to stick around and find out.
When she finally crossed the street, which was pedestrian rather than vehicular and capped by a high, false glass ceiling with several walkways crisscrossing it at higher elevations, she saw people running for cover, yelling and screaming at the presence of the Star Force troops, which she thought was odd. She could understand them being startled, but not hysterical.
That didn’t feel right, so she doubled checked both directions, looking for enemies about but finding none before ducking into another building on the other side, just as her comm activated.
“Contacts,” one of the point men reported, along with a flashing icon on her battlemap that disappeared after three seconds. Not a waypoint, but a heads up as to the location. She could see that it wasn’t where the line of troops were, but rather farther to the south inside a building on the edge of a large promenade.
Just then one of the dots swung out of line and held position, with the rest of the troops running on past. When she was nearly up to it her comm opened again, this time on a personal channel from Ian.
“With me,” he said, waving her his way on the promenade as she came into view. “We’ve got a security checkpoint to neutralize.”
“Happy to,” she responded, accelerating her sore legs up into a more familiar cadence. The Regulars and Knights simply ran too damn slow, and it’d been bothering her nearly the entire way out here, so despite the soreness it felt good to really be on the move again.
“I’m playing rabbit, you hit them on a delay.”
“Copy that,” she said, letting him get a few steps ahead of her.
Ian ran through the crowds, darting from one gap to another and came up on the checkpoint…which was essentially a toll booth monitoring the passage of pedestrians from one section of the city to another. On the other side was a more restricted area, reserved for governmental purposes and off limits to the wandering public. Tucked up next to it was a guard house, which was their target.
Outside there were four guards lounging around in a very unalerted state. The rest of the fighting in the city was far from here, so maybe they didn’t think it worth the worry…either that or they hadn’t been alerted to it, which Shannon found hard to believe. Only one of them noticed Ian coming and stood up, grabbing for his plasma rifle which he’d left sitting a meter to his side propped up against the wall.
Ian shot him first, then peppered the other three with stingers before opening and ducking his way inside the guard house. Shannon kept her spacing behind him, as instructed, and came in a few seconds later…right into the view of the flanks of half a dozen guards scrambling for their weapons while several others were already firing at Ian who was halfway across the lobby headed for the rec room.
Shannon took it to their blind side and sprayed them with stingers as fast as she could pump the trigger, downing four before the others even noticed her arrival. After that there was a furious few seconds of cat and mouse as she ducked behind a desk and played sniper while Ian completed a half circle and came at the wad of off duty security from the other side, taking a few plasma hits in the process.
Shannon didn’t stay put for long, jumping up out of cover and forming the opposite side of a pincher maneuver, firing her way through the guards until she met up face to face with Ian…then they found themselves standing in the middle of a pile of some two dozen bodies, some of which were still squirming, only having gotten partially stunned.
“Clean up,” Ian ordered as he dashed into a side room.
Without a word Shannon started hopping over legs and arms and shooting single stingers into the downed bodies, some of which she wasn’t sure whether they were moving or not, so she just shot them again for good measure. As she did she collected some of their plasma rifles and pistols and made a stash atop one of the desks that hadn’t been toppled or shot up by the guards’ misses.
Ian came back out a few minutes later, pointing for the door.
“We’re done here. Let’s catch up with the rest.”
Slightly surprised they were leaving so soon, Shannon dropped the plasma rifle she’d picked up and followed him back out of the guard house, then they ducked inside the restricted area rather than backtracking, taking a different route to the waypoint as the adept suppressed a smile at finally having gotten her first bit of real action, simple as it was.
2
“I think I see one,” a Brazilian guard said nervously from his position on a pedestrian crossroad in Region 13 of the city.
“Where?” another of the six guards asked, looking down through a sea of people. Some were going about their daily activities given the fighting hadn’t reached this section of city, while others were scrambling about trying to get to wherever they thought would be safe, with still others buying up anything and everything they could in the way of supplies, intent on holding out in their quarters until the danger had passed.
“Just beyond the courtyard,” the Brazilian said, hefting his plasma rifle. They’d been dispatched to this location on the report of Archon movements in the area, but so far this was the first sighting in more than 2 hours.
“Take cover and watch your aim,” the squad leader ordered, kneeling down behind a short barricade fort they’d set up. “Wait for the people to run clear. We don’t want to hit any of our own. Then concentrate all shots on the first Archon. They’ve got tough armor, so it’ll take a lot to take one down. Scatter fire and they’ll own us.”
“Here they come,” another said, hearing the screams of the civilians just before the road in front of them cleared with people ducking into side stores and walkways as fast as they could.
“Steady,” the squad leader said, but as the first of the pair came into view the distant Archon didn’t charge them, nor fire. Instead he took a large object off his back and laid it on the ground some 100 meters away from the checkpoint, then the second one came up and put an identical piece on top, connected the two, then pushed a button and took off running the way they’d come, ducking down a side street while the other Archon went a different way.
“What the hell?”
“Hold position and watch our flanks. On my order everyone turn and focus on the same target. I get the feeling they’re going to hit us simultaneously from both sides and divide our firepower.”
“What’s that thing they dropped?”
“I don’t know, but it’s…” the squad leader said before a huge plume of blue smoke began billowing out of the canister the Archons had just laid down. It expanded so fast that the street around it was filled within two seconds, with the cloud rushing down towards the guards and filling into the side crosswalks and stores, including the ones that had their ornamental doors closed, for the gas seeped in through the cracks.
The blue smoke wall rushed over the guards before the squad leader knew what to do, and he expected to have the Archons on top of them at any moment, taking them down hand to hand or with pointblank rifle fire…but that didn’t happen, nor did anything else. The six guards, unable to see each other, were left alone, though the screams of the people in the surrounding buildings and those that had been stuck outside behind them made the otherwise silent environment horrifically creepy.
“Check in,” the squad leader finally said after forcing himself to take a breath of the blue smoke. He coughed on it, but was still able to get some oxygen in.
“Here,” one of them said, followed by a chorus from the others.
“Orders, sir?”
“Hold position,” he said, waving a hand in front of him but still unable to move the smoke away from his eyes. Everything looked blue, with lighter hues above where the walkway lights were pushing through it.
“Face out so we don’t shoot each other. In fact, move back to back,” he said as the tactic jumped to mind as the screams began to die down, replaced by more further away and thus not as loud, returning some semblance of order to the place.
The squad leader retreated a couple of steps, holding out an arm until he made contact with the man on his left while holding his rifle in his right. From there they all got ahold of one another and made a small circle back to back.
“Take a knee,” he said, still unable to see anything. “Let them come to us.”
Then they waited…and waited. Nothing happened, save for the smoke began to thin out ever so slightly.
A few more minutes passed, and the squad leader found himself starting to get light headed from all the smoke, then he heard a slump/crunch as one of his men keeled over behind him.
“Manuel’s…down,” one of the others said, coughing.
“Is he hit?”
“I don’t…” the man said, before he too collapsed.
“Damn…smoke,” another said, with the squad leader starting to get tipsy himself. He stayed upright for another minute, the last to fall, then tipped forward and landed on the ground with his hands forward as he dropped his weapon. He kept himself on all fours but awake for a bit longer, then heard a few drops of water underneath him.
After that he blacked out and fell to the floor on top of the blood drops coming out of his nose.
18 minutes later in Region 4 a larger checkpoint leading into a shopping complex spotted another pair of Archons coming their way. This time the walkway leading in was three times as large and already clear of people, all of whom were taking refuge inside. There were two dozen guards entrenched behind barricades with plasma rifles drawn when, in the distance, a silver-suited Archon stepped out of a side street with a red one following a few steps back. The silver knelt down, pulling a canister off his back while the red one stood by, raising his rifle and taking a pot shot at the guards.
The blue plasma lance hit high, already having diffused slightly, but none the less it melted out a bit of the glass above the guards’ heads, leaving a hole into the complex. Two more plasma shots came down their way, one of which hit the ground shy of the barricades, but the Brazilians held their fire, waiting for the Archons to come closer.
The red and silver ones switched places, though the silver didn’t fire. He merely waited behind the red as it unslung its canister and set it atop the other…then the silver one jerked in sudden warning and twisted to his left, raising his plasma rifle halfway up when another silver blur came out of a side street and laid a running Archon punch into his chest.
The real Archon’s armored elbow punched through the fake chest plate of The Word operative, driving the fragments into his ribs and knocking the impostor entirely out of sight down the opposite walkway. Lio spun around and grabbed the red one by the neck and pulled it back from the double canister, smacking him onto the ground before punching him in the helmet three times, cracking the ceramic material and knocking him unconscious in the process.
“Got it,” he reported over the comm. “Just in the nick of time too.”
“And the operatives?” David asked.
“Oh yeah,” Lio said, glancing at the pair of bodies wearing the knockoff Archon armor. The red one was unmoving, but the silver was stirring a bit. He’d deal with that in a second.
“Deal with the canister, then get moving,” David said, enroute to his own intercept.
“Copy,” Lio said, walking out of sight of the guards and pulling out a stinger pistol, whereupon he shot the operative in the chest, splattering the hole in the fake armor and stunning the man’s wound. He fell still and the real Archon walked back out, eyeing the distant guards, and walked up to the canister. A quick inspection found him the release latches and he pulled the two pieces apart.
Knowing that he couldn’t babysit the thing he took a chance and started jogging down towards the barricades, stowing his pistol on his back rack and raising his hands in the air while amping up his external mic.
“Hold your fire,” he said, knowing that if they did start shooting that he’d have to duck into a side room pretty quick. That many plasma rifles on him would eat through his shields in a heartbeat and chew into his armor like a chainsaw through wood.
Lio kept his run smooth and sluggish, with his hands held high and got halfway down to the guards without them returning fire. He’d guessed they’d seen him take out the others, and was relying on their confusion to keep their trigger fingers at bay.
“I need your help,” he yelled through the mic, and he could see several heads, some helmeted, some not, twitch to the side as they glanced at each other.
“There are Star Force imposters roaming the city,” he said slowly as he approached their lines, transitioning from a jog to a quick walk when he got within 50 meters. “I just took out two of them before they could detonate a chemical weapon. They’ve already set off several others within the city, and we’re trying to get to the rest before they can set them off. I need to go after the next closest one, but I need you to take possession of that one,” he said, thumbing his left hand backwards, “so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
“Stop there,” one of the guards said, and Lio obliged, coming up within 20 meters of the shooting gallery.
“Star Force is responding to a request by the Brazilian government,” Lio explained. “There’s a rogue faction on Tyr that we’re rooting out, and they’re attacking you dressed as us to cause chaos. Our personnel are equipped with stun weapons. If you see one that has a plasma rifle, like those two jokers, shoot them down. They’re wearing fake armor too.”
“Stand down,” the Brazilian commander ordered, and the guards half lowered their weapons as he stepped up to the front barricade. “What’s going on?” he asked Lio.
“It’s a long story,” he said, lowering his arms, “so I’ll give you the short version. Tyr has been infiltrated by a criminal organization, at all levels, and has been quietly cut off from the Brazilian government, though very few people were aware of it. Finally Brazil got word and sent a strike force to reclaim the city. That strike force went missing and they asked Star Force to investigate before sending a larger force in. We’ve been here a few days picking apart the rogues, but since they control the moon they tagged us as enemies and ordered you guys to stop us…then they started dressing up like us and killing people. All caught up?”
“No, but I’ll take your word for it,” the Brazilian said, running his fingers through is black hair. “That answers a lot of questions. What sort of chemical weapons?”
“Deadly smoke, from that thing down there. Can you keep it safe?”
The Brazilian nodded. “What about the imposters?”
“Hang onto them too, and be careful, they’re a devious lot. We’ll collect both later, but right now I have to go before they set any more off.”
“Go,” the Brazilian said, with the Archon not wasting any time. He turned around and ran back the way he’d come, sprinting faster than the commander had ever seen a person move.
“Six man retrieval team,” he ordered, pointing ahead. “Grab that device and those men and get them back here.”
He pulled a large comm unit off his belt and held the phone-like device up to his ear as he watched his men move out. “We have a situation. There appears to be two sets of Star Force in the city, one genuine and another group of imposters. I just saw one attack the other, then the Archon came to us and explained that the imposters are setting off chemical weapons within the city. Can you confirm any of this?”
There was a long pause.
“I believe him. We’re recovering the device now, along with the two fake Archons he took down. It appears to come in two pieces which they have to assemble on site. They were doing so at range, and took a few shots at us…with plasma weapons. The Archon said all of Star Force’s troops are equipped with stun weapons, so the imposters will be the ones with plasma.”
There was another pause, during which the Brazilian commander watched his men haul the canisters back down towards him, with the others dragging the two suits of fake armor lagging behind.
“I know…but can you confirm any chemical weapons usage in the city?”
The commander waved the first canister piece over to him, then pointed to the ground where he wanted to set them down.
“Dear god…how many?” he asked, watching the fake Archons dragged up towards him…as well as the breach point in the silver one where the real Archon had punched through. The commander knelt down and pulled at a fragment of the armor over his chest, with it breaking off after he tugged twice. Cheap imitation it was, more like a costume than armor.
“I’m looking at the imposters now. Their armor is fake. A single plasma shot should get through. The Archon said they’re trying to sow confusion. He also said they’re here on the request of Mars…yes, I said Mars. Claims they sent a team in previously to investigate a hostile takeover and then promptly vanished. Star Force said they were asked to investigate. If that’s true then we’re working contrary to our own good.”
“No I don’t care. When’s the last time you heard of them using chemical weapons? They’ve got enough firepower to lay waste to the moon if they wanted, which makes this whole assault implausible. What the Archon said makes sense, so at least try and make contact with them. I saw one intercept and disable a weapons canister, so let them keep doing it. If we slow them down more could be released.”
The Brazilian commander sneered and pulled the comm away from his head, shutting it off and clipping it back onto his belt.
“Orders?” one of the guards asked.
“Contact the other checkpoints in the mall. I want them reporting to me and only me. Command has its head up its ass right now, so we’re going rogue. Don’t shoot at any Star Force personnel unless they’re firing plasma at us…that’ll be the imposters.”
“What do you want done with these?”
The commander looked down at the two canisters. “What can you make of it?”
Another guard stepped over and knelt down, pulling off the outer shell with practiced ease. “Some sort of liquid, binary mixture. If this transforms into a gas it’ll pump out enough to cover a wide area, more than enough to get to us from their detonation point.”
“Is it safe?”
The man nodded. “I think so…so long as the two compounds aren’t combined. I’d prefer not to test that theory.”
“Find a closet and post a permanent guard…and keep it disassembled. And get these two out of that armor and restrained.”
“Who are they?”
“You can ask them when they wake up, just keep them away from the device and make sure they don’t escape. I don’t know what’s going on here, but if Star Force really is here to help then they’ll sort it out in good order.”
“And if they’re not?”
“Then you might as well kiss your ass goodbye,” the commander said with a scoff. “I used to work for them, and they can drop the hammer whenever they like, more so than any of you know…but don’t worry, they’re as good as good guys get, and you saw for yourself how that Archon disabled them and the canister. So sit tight, watch your approaches, and keep an eye out for more imposters. We have to protect the people inside, regardless of what command has to say about it. If you see real Star Force personnel, Archon or otherwise, inform me immediately. We’re going to help them protect our people however we can, so check those itchy trigger fingers.”
Before he could utter another word the commander was shot in the back, not once, but four times in succession by one of his own guards…who even before the man fell, ran towards the barricade and hurdled it, then took off at a run down the walkway, sprinting for his life.
At first the other guards didn’t know what was going on, but a couple of them snapped into action and fired plasma streaks down at the traitor. One hit him in the shoulder, but the armored vest he wore caught most of it. The man veered to the left, with several more shots missing, then ducked into a side door and disappeared.
The other guards got to and flipped the commander over so that he was face up, but there was no signs of life in the man. The pointblank plasma fire had blown right through his vest and exploded his heart.
“What just happened?” one of them asked, aghast.
“The Archon said Tyr had been infiltrated,” another said, his plasma rifle shaking slightly in his hands. “I guess Pao was one of them.”
“No. That’s…”
“He just killed him! What is unclear here?”
“Who’s in command now?” another guard asked.
“I am,” one of the fully armored ones said, stepping up from behind. “Carry out his orders…and put his body somewhere out of the way. And I want 3 men on the canister. Who knows how many more traitors there are.”
When nobody moved he dropped the butt of his plasma rifle to the ground and smacked it against the tile floor three times. “Move before we’re all dead!”
Half of the guards seemed to snap out of their haze, with the others following suit after the men started to deploy to their tasks.
3
“Do you think we’ll be safe in here?”
Ben Morrison looked his wife in the eye, then glanced around the shelter that was already near capacity. “Better than out on the streets.”
“What do we do if they come in?” she whispered, barely audible over the din of hundreds of different conversations. The shelter had several thousand people packed into tiered platforms with staircases running up and down the levels at multiple spots, but otherwise it was a large empty complex they could use to pack people into in times of need.
“They’ll have to get by the soldiers to do that,” he reminded her. “And there are none back in our apartment complex.”
“Right,” she said unconvinced as she looped an arm around their 5 year old daughter, who’d been silent for the long walk out to the shelter, but whose eyes were wide with terror and worry.
Someone behind Morrison bumped into him, and he turned to look.
“Sorry,” the old woman said as she tried to find a place to sit down. Most of the floor space had already been taken, with only narrow cracks in between families and clusters of people available.
“You’re fine,” he offered, ignoring the elbow as she walked on, trying not to stumble over the tangle of arms and legs sticking out everywhere.
“How long do you think this will last?” his wife asked him after the woman walked by, though there were several other people wandering around trying to find a spot to sit down.
“I honestly don’t know. The fighting may never reach us. I don’t think it’s even hit this section of the city.”
“Yet,” she reminded him.
“Daddy?” his daughter asked, finally breaking her silence.
“Yes sweetheart?”
“I’m thirsty.”
His wife looked up at him. “I forgot to bring anything.”
“Neither did I.”
His wife looked down and rubbed her shoulder. “I’m sorry, but it’ll be a bit longer before any of us get something to drink. We have to stay here so the bad men won’t find us. We’ll get some water after they leave, ok?”
Their daughter didn’t respond, just leaned back into her mom’s chest and returned to her shell of silence.
A beep from Morrison’s watch caused him to glance at the time, then he looked around at the hordes of people and sighed. He turned and locked eyes with his wife.
“I’ll look around, see if they don’t have some type of emergency supplies.”
She reached out and grabbed his arm. “No…”
He smiled and placed his hand on hers. “It’ll be alright. Just save my spot.”
She faked a smile and released his arm, then stretched out her legs so her right foot extended into the spot he’d been sitting.
“I’ll be back,” Morrison said before hopping his way in between people over to a walkway that had been roped off so people wouldn’t sit down inside. He ducked underneath and headed over to a staircase, whereupon he walked down against a sparse flow of people coming up from the main entrance. His wife and daughter were on the 4th level out of 6, with the only entrance on 2, which was where he headed.
Once he got down to that level, which was even more packed than those above and below, he bypassed by the facility staff and headed for the entrance, one of the few people actually leaving the shelter, passing through several lines of guards who gave him odd glances, but he wasn’t the only one that had left today so they paid him no more thought, intent on keeping an eye on the large promenade that Morrison took off down, hanging tight to the wall as he headed to the left.
Two doors down he walked into an abandoned store, using a master key to get through the locked door. From there he headed into the back and unlocked another door into a maintenance area. There he climbed up a ladder to the highest level and stepped off onto a catwalk, then headed over to a section of the machine-laden corridor that ran behind the rows of stores and unlocked a specific panel.
He crawled into the empty box and pulled the cover shut, so as to leave no trace of anything askew. On the back side he kicked out a false wall and crawled through the hole in the real wall that had been precut days ago, following a string of tiny lights that allowed him to navigate through the otherwise total blackness. Once through that he was free to climb up a series of handholds that had been welded into the side of the containment wall and up to the ‘roof.’
Morrison had to duck down when he came up, given that the city shell was only a meter and a half above the building roof. It was a thick layer of metal and armor designed to protect the inner buildings from weaponsfire and meteorite impacts. The airspace Morrison was crawling through was auxiliary, for the wall that his entry point had been cut through was otherwise airtight, meaning that even if the city shell cracked the interior structures wouldn’t depressurize, adding an extra layer of protection to the Star Force-designed structure.
The gap he was crawling through was dotting with support braces, but he eventually worked his way over to the top of the shelter, finding the stacks of explosives that had been placed there earlier. They were outlined in a square with a small hole in what looked like a brick wall, there were so many of them. He crawled in through the hole and to the detonation mechanism inside the mini fort.
Wires were everywhere, but the path to the detonator had been kept clear, allowing him to crawl up and sit down cross-legged in front of the trigger mechanism. He pulled a small chip out of his pocket and inserted it into the housing, arming the manual trigger.
“We are The Word,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he prepared himself. “The sword and shield, guardian and gardener. We are entrusted with the soul of our race, and will counter the darkness corrupting it, bringing Humanity back into the light. We are loyal, committed, penitent, and honored to acquit this duty, for ours is not to determine the bounds of righteousness, but to accept those inherent in the universe and to bring back into line those that have strayed. We do this through creation and destruction, both in ourselves and our enemies, for all are the children, no matter how far they have strayed…and all can become enemies, for none are immune to corruption. We are The Word, and we will hold to the righteous cause, no matter the effort or sacrifice required of us.”
“We are The Word,” he repeated, placing his thumb on the trigger. He paused for a moment, checking his own conviction and finding it not lacking. Then he depressed his thumb and detonated the wall of explosives.
His wife and daughter were caught in the blast, having the level above them crashing down in a wave of debris that killed many instantly while cracking the floor beneath them. Both of them survived the impact, with the lay of debris cradling them, though both were knocked around as they fell…only to have a whirlwind of pressure push them back up and pin them to a slanted piece of debris, shoving them down into the nook where it had lodged into another piece.
The mother held onto her daughter as both were screaming, but the air was suddenly taken from their lungs as they and the debris were launched up through the breach in the city shell and launched with hundreds of other people and building pieces out into the low gravity of the airless moon.
The mother and daughter’s veins popped as their bodies swelled from the sudden lack of pressure, turning them both into an instantaneous, gory mess…but they didn’t die instantly, as the blood loss and trauma of explosive decompression competed with a lack of oxygen in their lungs. Both suffered a short, but gruesome death as they were flung out over the city and slowly fell down to land on the rocky landscape or on other parts of the city shell, which did well to catch and stop the debris from penetrating to the living areas inside.
A continuous plume of air continued to jet out the huge hole, though it reduced in volume almost immediately as the shelter was emptied, forcing it to suck more through the corridors and promenades nearby, adding more damage to the city’s population than the explosion alone could have, though the spray of Human bodies across the cityscape was gruesome enough.
Andre-80319 was ducking behind a potted tree well down the promenade, all the way into the neighboring section of the city when the explosion occurred. He was so far away that he couldn’t even hear it over the plasma fire coming from the Brazilians who were bunkered up in some well-arranged barricades and blocking the Star Ranger’s advance. The adept didn’t have any doubts that they were going to be able to subdue them, but it was going to take some time, else they risk losing some men, for the guards were doing well to overlap fields of fire and Andre had already had his shields go down twice crossing from cover to cover.
He was the point man in their current alignment, with the Knights and Regulars further back. His job was to get up close and lob one of two stun grenades he had on him over the barricades and inside the small fort. Andre could have winged one from where he was, but he wanted to diminish the chances of his missing by getting in closer, and the potted tree was the furthest he’d been able to get, realizing that he was going to have to make a hook shot in order to lob the grenade without getting lit up with plasma…which he could survive, but he didn’t want to take the armor damage.
Suddenly he was tugged forward, hitting his head on the rim of the pot as the air in the promenade turned into a hurricane. He saw the pressure meter on his HUD drop sharply, with his suit’s automated systems cutting off the external air feed and going over to backups immediately.
The Archon planted a hand on the rim to steady himself and half stood up, looking in the direction the air was going and was surprised to see the containment doors not lowering into place. All plasma fire coming from the Brazilians immediately stopped as they began to run out of air, meanwhile people on the other side of the archway, far back behind the Brazilians, started running out into the streets in a panic from where they’d been hiding.
Andre didn’t wait and flung himself up over the pot, using the air flow to pull him across and into a run. He flew right past the barricade fort which had been built up against the wall on the left side of the promenade and jumped over a series of benches, landing awkwardly but staying on his feet…then he fought his way to the right and caught himself on the archway, setting his feet and moving to the side.
There he pulled open the emergency panel and pulled the containment trigger arm…only to have it not respond. He glanced at an indicator light, which due to the Star Force design of the system he knew to be an indication of computer override, meaning someone in a control room was ordering the doors to stay open against their basic programing.
He wasted no time, seeing the pressure dropping even further, and punched the locked panel over the emergency trigger, cracking the case enough for him to pry it off. Underneath was a clear case covering a button, which he pried off and pressed, overriding the computer override and triggering four pieces of a massive clear wall to iris out of the archway and lock into place.
Before that could happen Andre jumped out and through to the other side, somersaulting through his landing and running forward to grab the nearest person he could. He caught a man as he was stumbling forward and literally dragged him back to the now closed wall, at the bottom of which were four rotational booths. He pushed him inside one and spun the basic air lock around, getting him on the more pressurized side then ran back and forth three times to grab additional people, though the last two didn’t survive.
Andre carried the bloody fourth person through himself, seeing that the rest of the Star Rangers had taken the opportunity to subdue the Brazilians, though at the moment no one seemed interested in fighting. The air pressure on the good side of the wall was rising again, as it sucked air from other sections, but not nearly as fast as it should have been, meaning that there were probably other leaks that would eventually render this section airless minutes later if they weren’t sealed.
The Archon pulled up a wider map of the city, seeing where the next closest archways were, then opened a comm to the other two Archons in his group that were nearby but not on the same promenade.
“Manually close all containment doors,” he ordered. “Regardless of whether or not you have a breach. The computer controls have been overridden and a lot of people are dying. We need to contain this before it gets any worse.”
“Where’s the breach?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere west of here.”
Outside the city the nearby cutter got a good view of the explosion and maneuvered over to that location, or as close as it could get without exposing itself to still operational defensive batteries…then a decision was made and it moved in closer, drawing fire from a small plasma battery that it took out with several precision lachar blasts while it absorbed the plasma hits as it moved over top of the breach point. It fought against the outflowing air a bit, but given its mass it didn’t have trouble descending over top of the massive hole and pushing its shields out further from the hull.
With some tricky reworking of the matrix the drone warship’s pilots used its protective bubble to temporarily seal off the breach, holding position on anti-gravs about 30 meters above the hole and sitting down in between several ‘mountains’ where taller sections of city sprung up. Thanks to the warship’s small size it was able to slide in between them without issue, though a destroyer or larger wouldn’t have been able to fit, for the surface of the city wasn’t a smooth curve, but a mottle mess of concealed structures contained beneath the protective blanket of armor, with more internal buildings added on the edges of the city with every decade that passed.
“Carver here,” the engineer answered his comm, swinging across his office on a rolling chair to get to the terminal. There was no image attached to the signal, just a voice…and an ID signature of a very high ranking Archon.
“We have a hull breach on Tyr,” Drake said evenly, but Carver could sense the urgency in his voice. “A big one. We’ve got a cutter temporarily plugging the hole but we need a patch job done as soon as possible, so prep a team and get over here.”
The engineer started pulling up available units on his console, looking through what they had available on Glasir.
“We’ve got a pair of MFSs,” he said, referring to the Mobile Field Slips that were basically a shipyard condensed down into a transport and allowed Star Force to initiate construction on fresh sites, as well as being using for repair work, given that they brought all the necessary workspace and tools with them. “I can deploy one within the hour.”
“Do better,” Drake pressed. “We’ve got a battle going on inside, and we don’t know what caused this breach. The city has already lost a chunk of atmosphere that we’re having trouble replacing. If we get a second hole hundreds of thousands of people will die.”
Carver frowned, though Drake couldn’t see it. “What’s wrong with the containment systems?”
“They’ve been overridden.”
“God dammit,” he swore as he jumped out of his chair, realizing in an instant the disastrous implications that could ensue. “You need to start manually sealing them. There’s an override panel on each of them, unless the Brazilians changed the architecture.”
“We’re working on it. Just get here and get it sealed as fast as you can.”
“Going,” Carver said, cutting the comm and rushing out of his office.
Already sitting in a parking orbit around Glasir, MFS-0832 was powered down and tethered to a monitoring station without a crew aboard. Those had to come up from the planet and from nearby orbital stations, pulled off of current jobs and shoved into dropships and ferries. Carver was one of the last up, having hopped directly onto a dropship and flown up with a scattering of personnel. He took the skeleton crew he’d assembled and made a pair of jumps, the first of which was out to Aesir, then from there to Tyr to get around the curve of the planet rather than wait through orbital transition.
They got to Tyr and down to the city 53 minutes after Drake’s call had come through, with the MFS gliding in over the city top and setting ‘down’ beside the cutter, though it was still hovering on anti-grav. Had it actually landed it could have cracked and damaged the armored shell even further.
Carver and most of the others he’d grabbed donned armored work suits and shot out the airlocks, dropping the short distance down to the city top and running across it in low g to positions around the blast crater as the cutter held position above them. The MFS then fed down a thick cord that, between the men and several mechanical arms, they managed to stretch around the perimeter of the hole. From there they began sealing it to the surface of the shell, going around and triggering the premade segments to chemically bond, then testing all the connections before they finally gave the go ahead.
The MFS fed power to the cord and its shield generator powered up, creating a ‘band aid’ over the breach up to the edge of the cutter’s shields. A quick reprogramming of both allowed the band aid to generate its shield through the other, with both holding back physical matter but not each other.
A quick signal to the cutter and it slowly rose up, undoing the overlap and allowing the engineers’ shield to take over. The warship hesitated, waiting for confirmation that it was no longer needed, then moved off and overtop the MFS, guarding it against any interference from city defenses.
The MFS moved forward and overtop of the shield ring, then reprogrammed the shield to only hold back air. Once that was accomplished the shield geometry altered, changing from a circle and arching up into a dome that intersected the bottom of the ship. The engineers outside walked over the ring, passing through the shield to the walking space around the jagged crater, whereupon a slew of extendable equipment from the underside of the MFS came down and the engineers began cutting apart the rough debris and prepping the rim to accept replacement parts to put a hard seal in place.
4
May 20, 2430
Alpha Centauri System
Tyr
Governor Gabriel Aranha woke with a pounding headache and a sore back, rolling over only to discover he had no pillow under his head…nor a bed underneath him. As he blinked his bleary eyes open he saw several people around him seated on the floor that he now laid upon, which was when his brain caught up to the present and he remembered the Star Force raid on his office complex.
He sat up with a hand to his forehead, finding it difficult to move without sending triggering waves of pain. When he did he saw green paint plastered all over the chest of his very expensive suit where he’d been shot. He poked at his chest delicately, trying to find a wound unsuccessfully. He’d heard Star Force liked to use stun weapons, but he’d never actually seen one, and the way they’d blown through his security detachment and into the safe room he’d been holed up in he’d been sure they were out for blood.
The Governor turned his head slowly, looking around at where he was at. It was a big, empty warehouse with people everywhere, half of which appeared to still be unconscious. Those closest to him weren’t his staff, but they all had some government affiliation based on their uniforms. Some were guards, now disposed of their weaponry…others were dock workers, secretaries, accountants, and corporate liaisons.
Then he spotted one of the towering white suits of the Star Force guards standing next to a door with a wide clear space around him. That would be one of their Knights, not an Archon, but even more terrifying given their size. He’d watched the security camera footage from his hideout as a pair of the monsters had charged in behind shields the size of a small wall and literally ran over his personal guard. This one didn’t have a shield with him, but he did have a sword attached to what passed as a belt on his armor, and Aranha didn’t blame those nearest to him for keeping their distance.
“You there,” he said to one of the guards next to him. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve been taken prisoner,” he mumbled, none too happy with the situation.
“What are they going to do with us?”
“They haven’t said.”
“This is intolerable,” Aranha said, standing up.
“I’d stay put if I were you,” someone else advised.
He straightened his suit, ignoring the dry paint on it. “I’m the Governor,” he reminded them, drawing a few startled reactions. “They’ll speak to me.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” he heard as he began walking towards the door, stepping over the unconscious and around the seated as everyone else in the room kept relatively quiet. The Knight didn’t so much as twitch as he walked up to him.
“I demand to know what is going on,” he asked in English, not expecting anyone from Star Force to speak Portuguese outside of their diplomatic personnel.
“You lost. Now sit down,” the Knight said through his helmet’s speakers, which gave his voice a slightly artificial tone.
Aranha was undeterred. “I’m the god damned Governor of this moon, and I demand to speak to your commanding officer!”
The Knight laughed. “We’re Star Force. We don’t have commanding officers.”
“Your Archon then,” he pressed.
“They’ll come for you when they want, not when you want. Now sit down,” the Knight said, still holding his stoic pose.
“I will not. I demand to speak to your leaders. I’m the Governor, and I will not be treated like a common citizen. I want to speak to someone I can negotiate with.”
“You’re a prisoner, same as the rest,” the Knight said, unclipping his sword and flicking it on with an audible crackle/pop.
The Governor took an involuntary step backwards, then found his nerve again…or more accurately, his ego. “I’m not moving until I speak to someone in authority.”
The Knight didn’t even bother to speak again, he just raised the tip of his stun sword and lightly tapped Aranha in the chest, knocking him to the floor unconscious. He held his sword at his side for a moment, looking out over the rest of the prisoners who were all staring at him.
“Anyone else want to negotiate?” he asked loudly, hiding a smile behind his faceplate. He loved being able to quote Bruce Willis movies and have no one catch on, young as they were.
No one responded, so he flipped off his stun sword and reattached it to his armor as he returned to his stoic pose.
“What happened next?” David asked.
“We were told that Mars had issued a new staff to replace those that had been indicted,” the women said, held down into her chair by Assad’s strong grip on her shoulder and neck. “They were being taken back to face trial, and we were told it would be unlikely that they would be returning.”
“What do you know of any other corruption on Tyr?”
“There’s always the occasional rumor, but nothing concrete that I’m aware of,” she continued with intense eyes, holding back her panic and trying to work through the situation.
“And what do you know of The Word?”
She frowned. “I’m not familiar with that phrase…or is it a name?”
Assad sent him the all clear signal, and David finally removed his helmet and set it on the table in the Governor’s former office that they were using as a command post for the interim government they were setting up to keep city functions running. With 13 million citizens having to be fed, they couldn’t afford to waste time and allow the city to fall into even further chaos without security in place to keep order.
Assad released his grip on her and walked out of the room to go and fetch another prisoner, leaving David alone with her.
“I apologize for the way we arrived, but be aware that the Brazilian government asked us to come here and reclaim the moon for them. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve been working for a rogue faction, a criminal organization that took control of this moon some two years ago. They did so very quietly, and have been inserting their personnel into the command structure at a number of levels, which was why we had to capture everyone, yourself included.”
The woman’s eyes went wide. “This was sanctioned?”
David nodded. “Your people are on their way to take possession back, but until then we need to keep as much order as possible, which means reestablishing as much of the current administration as we can. We’re fairly certain that you’re not part of the insurrection, so we need you to go back to work immediately, taking on as many additional duties as you can until Brazil can set up a transitional government, after which I assume they’ll be doing a very thorough background check on all personnel.”
“Of course,” she offered.
“We’re using this building to coordinate from. Down the hall to the right, room 1944. You’ll receive further instructions there, including a secure earpiece. Don’t lose it,” David said, walking up to her and grabbing her wrist, upon which he placed the end of a small device.
“Ouch!” she said as it pinched her skin quickly. When he removed it she saw that it’d left a tattoo behind on the back of her hand.
“It’s temporary, but won’t wash off with water. It marks you as having been cleared to return to service. Others will ask to see your mark, and you will do the same to those you work with. Check often, for the infiltrators are both subtle and very effective at blending in. You all have the same mark…exactly the same mark, down to the details. If there’s any alteration it’s counterfeit. I have no doubt they can duplicate the mark with time, but it’s not something they can just draw on free hand.
The woman rubbed her thumb over the gold/white Star Force symbol that had a lot of extra icons spaced around the exterior and within the gaps of the very familiar vertical double infinity symbol, finding that it truly didn’t smudge or alter in any way, as if it was a real tattoo.
“They’re called The Word?” she asked, remembering what he asked her.
“That’s not a public name as of yet, but yes.”
“Room 1944?”
David nodded.
“Thank you for trusting me,” she said as she stood up, then hesitated as she wanted to ask more but thought better of it and simply walked out the door.
David put his helmet back on and waited for Assad to return, this time with a man that had also worked in the Tyr administrative ranks. The rest of Green Team was doing the same thing, handling five interrogations with two Archons each…one to question, the other to monitor via Ikrid. It was the only way they could be sure they weren’t putting Word operatives back into positions of power, tedious as it was.
As for the lower ranking support staff, there were far too many to go through this process with, so a team of Star Force hackers were going through Tyr’s records and doing quick personnel searches…if they came up clean they were released from custody to return to their jobs. If there was even so much as a letter out of place in their files they were flagged and kept imprisoned for the time being.
He had no illusions that they’d be able to round up all The Word operatives, given the size of the city, but they had to make sure that the leaders were clean, otherwise they could gain a foothold again and lay low, covering for others, until Star Force was gone and order restored. Then they could either start again or leave quietly.
The Word was extremely skilled at hiding in the cracks, and Green Team knew they had to seal as many as they could, as quickly as they could, or give their enemy new opportunities to exploit in the chaos.
Mason Watkins sprinted down one of the city’s many shopping promenades, jumping over and through a slice of vegetation in the otherwise fabricated environment, whereupon he popped over a hedge and punched a looter to the ground before roundhouse kicking another off an old man he was in the process of mugging. The third of the punks, a few inches taller than the Regular, delivered a gut punch into his black Clan Tron armor, immediately regretting it as his middle knuckle broke on impact with the hard plates.
Mason didn’t give him a chance to make the same mistake twice and swatted him in the head with the butt of his stun rifle, toppling him to the ground before shooting the other two as they got to their feet. He added a third stinger to the big guy, then turned his attention to the old man whose eyes were so wide with fear that they looked like they were going to pop out of his head.
“Are you injured?” he asked through his black faceplate.
“My…my ankle,” he stuttered, then reached for his wallet on the ground nearby where one of the muggers had dropped it.
Mason retrieved it for him, then got on his helmet comm and called for a medic, as well as placing a waypoint so they could find his position…or rather, their Star Force escorts could find his position, for with so much chaos running through the city none of the medical response calls into the unsecured zones were going in alone. Several had already been jumped, with the medications they carried stolen and some of the medics beaten, despite the fact they were local Brazilians.
After those initial reports Star Force had begun extending escorts to those response teams going out into the ‘wild zones’ while most of the troops were locking down various sectors of the city and restoring order. Mason was part of several patrols heading through the wild zones to try and discourage the looting going on, assuming that just by showing themselves in some areas that the locals would be less encouraged to misbehave as opposed to them seeing no uniformed presence at all for the better part of 2 days.
The Regular was patrolling on his own, which was a bit irregular, but there were other Clan Tron commandos in the area that he could call on for help if necessary. They’d decided to split up to cover more ground, with these roaming bandits offering little resistance.
“A medic’s on the way,” he told the man. “Can I help you over to that bench?”
“Sure,” he said, reaching up and grabbing the arm of the black armor. The man stood up on his good foot and hopped over to the shrubbery that the bench was set into.
“Thank you, sir,” he said gratefully after he’d sat down.
“Us old guys have to stick together,” Mason quipped.
“Ha…with the way you handled those kids, I doubt you’re half my 84 years.”
“I take it back,” he said sarcastically. “You’re a youngling. I’ll be 124 next month.”
The man’s face scrunched up. “Really?”
“Really,” Mason echoed. “Now, I’ve got to go bust up some more punks. Wait here, a medical team is on the way. Tell them those three are responsible.”
“What if they wake up first?”
“They won’t,” Mason promised, leaving the bench and jogging off. He added a stinger to each of the downed muggers as he passed, then continued on his running patrol, spotting another broken store window down the promenade past an upturned vendor cart…with a body laying nearby.
“Don’t you just love the civilian life?” he said to the air as he picked up his pace, heading towards the body.
A few hundred thousand miles away on Vanir a man in the Australian colony was sitting in his apartment watching the news vids when he got an incoming message tone from his desk console. He walked over and logged in, setting aside the half-eaten bowl of popcorn he’d been working on and seeing that the message was an atypical one, in that it hadn’t gone through the regular comm network.
Instead, it was a direct transfer, accomplished via a burst transmitter on Tyr to a private receiver on Vanir, then added to the Vanir system as a local message, disguising its origin. There was a brief message indicating that the attached data file was a movie his brother had sent to him…though that was only half the truth.
The man downloaded the data file then deleted the message, not particularly caring if it was later traced or not. He pulled out the data chip he’d saved it on and pocketed it, then grabbed one last handful of popcorn before walking out of his apartment, never again to return.
He booked the soonest available flight out of the system and spent the layover at a series of spaceports and starports until eventually boarding a jumpship carrying some 7,000 other passengers on their way over to the nearby Proxima System. After a two day layover there, the jumpship took most of those passengers, plus a few hundred more, back to Sol where the man offloaded onto a starport in high Earth orbit.
Another layover there transitioned to a ferry that sent him to a resort facility in low orbit, where upon he handed over the data chip. Immediately thereafter he boarded another flight, this one ferrying him over to a low orbit starport that gave him access to the dropship traffic going down to Earth’s surface. He bought a ticket for a quick drop down to Australia and exited Star Force’s transportation network through their Sydney spaceport.
After that he milled about in a hotel for two days before a packet arrived. Following the instructions inside, he bounced around the city to several locations picking up a variety of purchases before hopping on a train that took him over to Port Augusta. There he had a ride waiting for him…a cute blonde in a compact car that took him up the A87 highway heading for the northern coast.
When the car arrived in Darwin two days later on some prearranged visit, only the blonde was in the car. The man had been dropped off in the Tanami desert along the side of the road at a specific point, following a coordinate trail in the navigational device he’d received back in Sydney. He hiked for three days, utilizing the backpack full of supplies he’d purchased, until he came to his destination…a small boulder set out in the open, otherwise just a random object, but one that The Word used for visual reference.
Half an hour after he’d arrived an all-terrain four wheeler showed up and carried him off further into the desert, eventually ducking into a subsurface tunnel that took the man, his former identity now forgotten, into an underground facility where he’d be put to use with another task, one that would have him not see the public scene again for a decade or more, now that his original identity might be compromised.
The sleeper agent had completed his singular task of delivering the data chip to Earth, and whether or not he’d be given another field assignment under a false identity was a matter of necessity. The Word much preferred using real identities, so that no possible data mining could detect anomalies. Star Force was good at such discoveries, and they needed to keep their secret operatives secret, which meant burning their original identities as needed, then recruiting more operatives as they were available.
The ‘burnt’ individuals would then be recycled into other duties, with this man transitioning into a data analyst working out of their hidden base…having literally disappeared from the public records once he got off the train in Port Augusta.
Normally sleeper operatives were rarely used for anything less than vital missions, let alone data transfers, but this was a special case, and well deserving of the sacrifice.
5
June 6, 2430
Alpha Centauri System
Tyr
Drake got back to their command center in the former Governor’s complex from a 2 hour running patrol through the city, with little to report aside from overall progress. The streets had been cleaned up from the looting, though repair efforts to the stores were still lagging behind, given that they’d only resumed minimal orbital commerce at one of the spaceports, thinking it better to route through the most essential supplies while keeping a close watch on the transfers. Green Team was still convinced that there were Word operatives in play, and they didn’t want them moving cargo out, so Drake had agreed to take things slow, though as the days passed Tyr was gradually getting back to normal.
The damage to the city’s exterior had been physically patched over, though the inside was still a mess. He imagined Brazil would contract Star Force crews to rebuild the internal structure, but that was their call given that it was their city. Star Force wasn’t going to repair it for free, above what was necessary to maintain atmospheric integrity. The source of the blast was still unknown, but fortunately no others followed it.
The casualty lists had run high though, far more than Drake had initially estimated, topping out at 593,228. A review of the city’s computer systems confirmed that someone had directly overridden security protocols and locked open the containment walls, allowing the atmosphere to purge from a huge area of the city before a few nearby Archons were quick enough to stem the tide with physical overrides, else it was possible that more than half the city could have been compromised.
The bodies that had been flung outside the city had been recovered, as well as those inside. The hordes of stunned guards and other personnel had been rounded up and contained, with many of them still in holding areas. Red Team had taken over several hotels and turned them into comfortable prisons in order to keep them detained while shuffling through them looking for both traitors and trustworthy individuals that they could assimilate into their makeshift government to get the city functioning again.
The running patrol had been unnecessary, but after three weeks of no training Drake and the rest of Red Team were getting irritated. Retaking the city was their mission and responsibility, but the work they were doing now was administrative, with almost no combat remaining aside from the occasional takedown when Green Team found another operative and they made a run for it. Those didn’t last long, and most didn’t even cause him to break a sweat, so both he and the other members of his team needed to do something physical, hence the running patrols, which helped to keep the citizens in check simply by seeing the Archons in person…not to mention how fast they were moving in full armor.
Drake finished his patrol at the base of the Governor’s complex, which appeared as a tall ‘building’ inside the city structure. There was a wide promenade/street that rose up several dozen stories with enclosed crosswalks jutting out across the gap at numerous points, but above that was a solid ceiling that was the underside of multiple residential levels. The architecture reminded one of a conventional airborne city, though it was only illusion, for the actual structure was really one gigantic complex.
Fortunately the Governor’s section only allowed a few entrances in and out of it, though it shared support structures with those nearby. Drake entered through the lowest one, which was the largest, walking through wide ornamental glass doors that were not air tight. Star Force hadn’t designed those, but rather they were Brazilian either in build or refit as they customized the internal ‘buildings’ to their liking.
Those fanciful doors in other sections of the city had allowed the atmosphere to slowly purge, killing many more inside than just those that had been on the streets, and Drake was grateful that Star Force always designed multiple levels of safeguards into its designs, for some of the less wealthy areas of the city had stuck with the standard construction, and as a result those interior ‘buildings’ had become lifeboats for many survivors. The main populations centers, however, had all been rebuilt, and where the vacuum had reached them they’d turned into bloody killing fields without so much as one plasma blast being fired.
Drake suspected sabotage, but there wasn’t much left to study, though they did have a team combing the debris, both inside and out, trying to find some fragments to identify the source, but so far they hadn’t come up with anything.
The acolyte walked in through the lobby, passing a fully armored Knight and several Regulars from Clan Alterra in their gray/red armor that were guarding the entrance to the building. Drake gave the Knight a nod then hit the stairs, bypassing the elevators and taking the steps three at a time to stretch out his legs as he made his way up to the pair of levels they’d claimed for their own use.
He walked into their improvised command room, full of modular equipment they’d brought in via dropship so they wouldn’t have to risk using compromised Brazilian systems, and saw that David was already there, pouring over some data on a tabletop display.
“Nice jog?” Green Team’s leader asked as Drake came over to him and pulled his helmet off, setting it down on the corner of the table where it wouldn’t block any of the display.
“Tolerable. How close to finished are you?”
David sighed. “We’ve cleaned out all the equipment we can find, though I know there’s more here hidden somewhere that we’re probably never going to get to.”
“The Brazilian transports made orbit this morning. How long do you want me to hold them off?”
“Four more hours. Green Team will be ready to go then.”
“Last minute op?”
“Following one last thread, though I doubt it’ll amount to anything. How are you set for the transition?”
“Primary services have been stabilized. So long as we hold them through the handover we’re good to go. Pulling the rest of the city back together is Brazil’s problem. How many prisoners are you taking out?”
“We’ve got most of what we want already on Glasir. There’s a few dozen probables I still need to sort through, so we might have a handful more to add.”
“How’s the investigation going?”
“We’ve got a mountain of questions to answer, and a lot of data to work through, but we are getting some good intel out of the prisoners. The fact that they don’t know we can read their minds is really helping out, because they’re only guarding their words, not their conscious thoughts. In fact, that last little op we’re running is following up on intel we got from one of the contract operatives we caught, though I doubt the stash he pulled from previously is still in place. The Word cleaned out their facilities quite thoroughly, so I doubt they left much of value behind except where we got the jump on them.”
“Better to check and come up empty than to miss a find,” Drake agreed. “How’s the prime guest getting along?”
“Incredibly resistant while being excessively chatty. I’m told his mind is very tight, though I haven’t interrogated him yet. I expect that to be one very long conversation.”
“I for one would like to know about their chemical weapons program…and how many more of those canisters are floating around other worlds.”
“You and me both, but I don’t expect him to give up that kind of information voluntarily…unless it allows him to brag on The Word in some way.”
“You keeping him on Glasir?”
“We’re keeping them all on Glasir for the length of the investigation. Then we’ll decide what to do with them.”
“Do you have a list to give the Brazilians?”
“Already made up.”
“Four hours then?”
David nodded.
“I’ll let them know,” Drake said, picking up his helmet and walking over to another station, letting David get back to his work.
“Ah…finally,” Governor Aranha said, getting up out of his chair only to have Yavari push him back down into it again with a firm grasp on his shoulder. “What?! Let me go!”
“Sit still,” the Archon insisted as the Brazilian delegation walked into the Governor’s office and presented themselves to Drake, the leader of which offered his hand.
“Antonio Costa.”
“Drake-756,” he said, gently shaking the man’s hand, given that he was still wearing his armor minus the helmet.
“Brazil owes you a great debt, Mr. Drake.”
“Just Drake.”
“As you wish. Though I’m saddened to see the decompression death toll, I’m told the actual combat was more or less bloodless? That’s not something my people could have accomplished, and I thank you for it, on behalf of myself, my troops, and my country.”
“You’re welcome,” Drake said, wanting to skip the formalities. “We’ve reestablished a skeleton government using your own people that we were able to clear. There’s a still a backlog of prisoners that we haven’t had time to determine their allegiance, most of whom are security. If they shot at us their loyalty is in doubt, though many of them believed we were the enemy, given how quietly the moon switched hands,” he said, throwing a glance at the former Governor.
Costa followed his gaze. “Is he one of them?”
“No,” Drake said, surprising the Brazilian. “What he is, is an incompetent dupe. He let his subordinates carry out all of his duties while parading around like a rock star. The Word kept him distracted by all the perks of his job while he carried out none of the responsibilities. I highly suggest you fire his fat ass.”
“What?!” Aranha demanded, trying to stand up again only to have Yavari push him back down.
“Done,” Costa said, giving the man a harsh glare.
“What? No…I had no part in this. They attack my city and I am to be blamed for it?”
Costa looked at Drake. “He still doesn’t know?”
“He doesn’t believe he could be that inept,” the Archon said, rolling his eyes.
Costa took a step towards Aranha, but didn’t come up close to the overweight man. “You are hereby relieved of your post, effective immediately. You will remain in your personal quarters until such a time as transport is arranged for your deportation back to Mars. You can plead your case to them, so do not waste my time. Guards, escort him there and make sure he doesn’t wander off.”
Two men standing in the doorway behind Costa and his transitional team walked forward and pulled Aranha out of his chair, relieving Yavari of his charge.
“This is an injustice,” he murmured, but once they got him moving he didn’t resist. “A proper inquiry will bring the truth out.”
Costa let him go, then turned back to Drake. “I have security teams coming down, some 5,000 men to replace the leadership in the local forces. How would you like to handle the transfer?”
“It’s your city, and there hasn’t been any looting or riots for over a week. Things are fairly calm, it’s the logistical situation that you need to get a hold of. We’ve maintained the essentials, with a limited commerce flow through one of the spaceports, but before you open up normal operations you need to lock down the infrastructure, or you could have chaos with people grabbing at whatever they can get.”
“Rationing?”
“In place on foodstuffs. The water supply is secure, and I didn’t care about luxuries, a lot of which were looted anyway. Some stores have reopened, but most are awaiting new inventory and a full security detail before they open up their doors. That’s put everyone on edge, but so far they’re behaving themselves…though you will have a backlog of looters to prosecute that we bagged. We didn’t have time to investigate any reported thefts or assaults, so the ones we’ve got in custody were caught in the act. I’d take that fact into consideration when they whine about due process.”
“I’ve been given a wide latitude in legal matters to rectify this situation,” Costa said with a smirk. “We’ll take your word for it.”
Drake nodded his contentment. “I’ll start inserting your men into the current field assignments and rotating ours out. As soon as you can get enough down here we’ll be out of your way.”
“There’s no rush, though we don’t want to be burden on your time anymore than Tyr already has been. Thank you for fixing the hull breach.”
“It’s a firm patch, but it’s not armored. It’ll have to be replaced at some point.”
“I’ll get on that right away. I understand you were able to discover what happened to our previous assault team, some of which were recovered?”
“The Word took most of them captive and were holding them in a section of the city where one of the chemical weapons was detonated. We found their bodies there, no survivors, but some of them that The Word was smuggling out we were able to rescue. They’re not in good physical condition, and we evacuated them all to Glasir for treatment and debriefing, but they said that there were plants in the strike force itself that turned on them…so I’d be careful with the people you brought out with you, for there might be more Word operatives among them.”
Costa frowned deeply. “They knew who we were sending?”
“More than likely.”
“I don’t like the sound of that at all,” the Brazilian said, turning and beginning to pace a short line over to the Governor’s empty desk and back again. “That means they’ve not only infiltrated Tyr but other facets of our government.”
“And for all I know you could be one of them,” Drake said evenly, not trying to be insulting. “Which is why Star Force is going to make occasional visits to the moon, have a look around, and make sure The Word isn’t getting another foothold in the aftermath of all this.”
Costa nodded. “Please do, and forward me any findings. In my experience ferreting out spies is a nasty business. I’m clean, and I’m fairly sure of my senior staff…but if the very troops we sent here to root out this criminal organization were part of it, any part of our government is suspect. Having an external set of eyes would be most helpful.”
“There’s also some new infrastructure beneath the city that you need to check out. The Word built an extensive complex, as well as mislabeled the city schematics to section off areas that they rebuilt according to their needs. We obviously haven’t had time to search the entire city, but we compared our construction records to the public ones and found the discrepancies. I’d suggest that you do a full survey of every room, corridor, and shaft on Tyr and draw yourself a new map, just in case there are any other alterations…some that their operatives might still be using.”
Costa sighed. “That will take a while to organize and execute, but I agree. What was in their base?”
“They cleaned it out before we got to them…then left a heap of explosives as a door prize. We disarmed them, but who knows how many more are sitting around out there.”
“Thanks for the warning. How many operatives have you been able to discover?”
“Over 200, but we know there are far more out there. Some of the factories we raided had hundreds of workers that we weren’t in a position to collect at the time. They got loose and we’re not sure who or where they are now.”
“Do you have a list?”
“Yes, but I’ve decided that we’re not sharing it just yet. We’d prefer if The Word didn’t know who was taken, and if we give you a list they’ll probably get a copy of it before too long.”
“I wish I could disagree with you, but given recent information I don’t see how I can. That will make taking a head count rather difficult.”
“If you can take my word for it, we’ve already done a head count. Everyone on the books is accounted for, including the corpses…though those books may very well have been cooked to make some individuals disappear prior to our arrival, but as far as having missing citizens in distress, that’s already been taken care of.”
“Which doesn’t discount the possibilities of lurkers,” Costa said, referring to individuals who lived on various worlds without proper identification, “but that’s one more item I can check off my list. Thank you.”
“We like to be thorough,” Drake said, glancing at the four people waiting behind Costa. “I guess this is your office now. Our makeshift operations center is in this building. I suggest you utilize that through the transfer, though we’ll be taking our equipment with us when we finally leave.”
“Best to use what’s currently in operation,” Costa agreed. “Anything else big that I should know?”
“Wanna get to work?”
Costa smiled. “That’s why they sent me.”
“The Word had an arsenal of custom made plasma weapons. We’ve collected all we could find, but there still may be some floating around.”
The Brazilian’s smile faded. “Tyr isn’t known for a large criminal element, I’m told, but even one unregistered weapon could do a wealth of damage. Dozens in the wrong hands…could mean the casualties from this mess aren’t yet over. What of the weapons from the assault team?”
“That I can’t answer. I assume they were of the same make as the local security armament?”
“Not entirely,” Costa said, disgruntled. “More loose ends to tie up.”
“The ship they came in is also missing,” Drake added. “We’re guessing it was disassembled.”
Costa blew out a breath, seeing his massive job already developing wrinkles. “Command center?”
“Follow me,” Drake said, grabbing his helmet on the way to the door.
6
June 9, 2430
Alpha Centauri System
Glasir
David was staring at a datapad in one of the Archon lounges in the primary Star Force city on Glasir when his attention was broke by someone else entering. With most of the Archons on planet being part of the three resident Clans, very few had been assigned to the regular Star Force colony, and as such the Archon-only lounges there were usually left unused. David had set up shop in one of them for that very lack of activity, giving him a quiet, large area to work out of as he tried to piece together the data they were collecting and delve deeper into the mystery that was The Word.
“What?” he asked as Nathan walked over with an odd look on his face.
“Just got the chemical analysis on the toys back from Odin,” he said, hefting another datapad. “They confirmed Glasir’s analysis. There’s nothing abnormal about them…even the Archon action figures. Maybe they’re just selling them to make some credits for the organization and couldn’t do it aboveboard without our franchise license?”
“That’d be insulting enough…but I don’t buy it. There’s got to be something hidden in them.”
Nathan shrugged. “Maybe it’s some sort of code.”
“I’ve been down that road already. The toys, aside from the various models, are all identical. Unless they’re packaged in mismatched sets to deliver some sort of encrypted message I don’t see how they’re relaying information…aside from the cargo hatch in some of the Star Force knockoffs, but they could just as easily purchase the real ones and use them for that purpose, which brings into question why would they need to make their own and why in a secret factory?” David said, referencing the Star Force merchandizing mandate that all frivolous toys and trinkets have some practical secondary function.
Some of the items the mega corporation produced were light sources, others had cargo compartments where you could store a data chip or micro-ration food cube. Others transformed into screwdrivers, hammers, picks, and other tools. Some more expensive models were even small hologram projectors. Even with their toy line, Star Force products always served some purpose, including the Archon action figures.
“Perhaps you should ask our resident Agent.”
David frowned, leaning back in his chair and setting down the datapad he’d been holding. “Anything new on that front?”
Nathan shook his head. “I don’t think he knows how, but he’s caught onto the fact that we’re monitoring him somehow and has locked down his biological cues. I don’t have the Ikrid skills to penetrate the armor over his thought processes, so we’re working him through some mind games trying to loosen him up. Aside from what Jenson got the first couple days we haven’t seen any progress with him, and he’s stopped talking too. Not even any friendly chit chat.”
“At least we’ve got him on the defensive. If it hadn’t been for your quick grab he’d be dead and out of our reach. Our psionics have given us a greater victory here than I think The Word anticipated, and I don’t expect they’ll make the same mistake twice, so we need to squeeze whatever intel we can out of what we’ve got.”
“Well, the lower operatives aren’t so savvy and have been giving up chunks of information, we just can’t pull very much of it from their minds…and what we have got is illuminating, but overall not very useful in exposing threads to follow. They’re very strict with their cellular layout, which means Mr. Agent is holding most of the cards we need…though we are piecing together some things from the collection of cells.”
“Anything new?”
“Not conclusively, but Assad thinks that they were using Tyr as a sort of training ground. We’ve been able to trace a lot of fake IDs back there, now that we know what to look for.”
“Don’t suppose we’ve picked up Drake’s hacker yet?”
“Nope,” Nathan said with some disgust.
David shared the sentiment. After running a genetic test on the blood Drake had brought back on his armor they’d determined that the man was in fact on Star Force’s detain list, with a priority 2 ranking…the highest possible for non-violent individuals. He was known as the ‘Specter’ and had a very elusive nature when it involved computer records, having switched between hundreds of identities during his career. Green Team badly wanted him for interrogation, thinking his presence on Tyr probably wasn’t a coincidence and he may have been helping The Word with the forged identities that many of the captured operatives were using.
“On the up side, of all these shipping manifests I’ve been able to piece together,” David said, tapping the datapad on the lounge table, “it looks like they’re primarily using non-Star Force channels. Most of their exports were going out on Brazilian transports or private hires. They’re not risking sending them through us anymore.”
“Did you get that packet out to Davis yet?”
“It went out on a jumpship this morning.”
“How long have you been in here?” Nathan asked, though he was fairly sure he already knew the answer.
David sighed. “Too long.”
“Take a break. Deviousness isn’t going to be discovered on a fried mind.”
David checked his watch. “I guess it’s time for my afternoon workout anyway,” he said, getting up out of his seat and snagging his datapad. “I guess if this was going to be easy I’d be disappointed.”
Nathan walked into one of the rooms they were using for interrogations and saw Assad sitting opposite a long table with the man known only as ‘Agent’ at the other end. They’d run his genetics and come up with no matches, meaning he was either someone born outside the Star Force network and its affiliates, or he’d had his identity erased.
Both men were silent and staring at each other with a plate full of donuts sitting in the middle of the table.
Nathan looked down at the donuts, then at his fellow Archon. “I think this is more torture on you,” he told Assad.
“I’m managing,” he said, not breaking his staredown.
“You don’t want any?” Nathan asked Agent, but the man didn’t return his gaze. He was staring blankly at Assad with a bored/tired look and didn’t even seem to notice the newcomer.
“Hmmn,” he said, reaching down and snagging one of the glazed ones from the side of the heap without toppling the rest…not a small feat. He bit a huge bite out of it and chewed while adding his stare at the man. “You know…you’re doing this all wrong. If you eat the whole plate it means you’re innocent.”
“Innocent of what?” Agent said, slowly twisting his head to look at Nathan who stood partway down the table next to the donut plate.
Nathan pointed a finger at him. “Good point, there. I could come up with a lot of sarcastic replies, but I can see you’re not in the mood. You’re a member of The Word, an organization that has been doing quite a lot of bad things…more than we were recently aware of. Now, what you personally were a part of we don’t know, but being an Agent means you’ve got operational control.”
“I’ve already admitted I was an Agent,” he pointed out grumpily. “If that is my crime then I have already been determined to be guilty. What then am I to protest my innocence of?”
Nathan took another bite of the donut, chewing thoroughly before answering. “Being a bad guy. Your predecessor regaled us with the wisdom of The Word, explaining how Star Force was misguided and that you were doing us and Humanity a favor by attempting to put us back on the right track.”
“Then again,” he continued, “that was just a stalling tactic while he died. Or maybe he just wanted someone to talk to in his last few minutes.”
“I know who you are, Nathan-937, member of Green Team who has been tasked with locating, infiltrating, and taking down our organization. But unlike the other Agent you encountered, I have no wish to talk to you.”
“Donut then?” Nathan offered, not taking the bait about the ‘infiltrating’ part, for Star Force was doing no such thing…but The Word didn’t know that, so he figured the disinterested Agent was still fishing.
“For someone who protests to live an unlimited lifespan, you certainly have an appetite for unhealthy food.”
“To…tallwee in…correct,” Nathan said before he’d finished his third bite. “Define healthy.”
“That much sugar is bad for you.”
“That’s not a definition.”
“Healthy are those things that are good for the body.”
“And sugar isn’t?”
“Excess isn’t.”
“This isn’t excess,” the Archon said, shoving the last bite into his mouth, then licking the glaze off his fingers before grabbing a sprinkled one off the top of the plate.
“I suppose you’re going to claim a higher rate of metabolism as your defense?”
“Now see…right there is your problem. You have a guilty outlook on life, like you’re defaultly tainted in some way.”
“Star Force has a naïve positivity. I’m not inclined to believe that you actually live as long as you claim, given your ignorance.”
“Enlighten me,” he asked, taking a huge bite out of the second donut.
“Human nature is inherently flawed, none can escape this without accepting the fact and working to correct it. Your positivity will be your undoing.”
“Na…you’re just a sucker for the illusions in life. Take your body, for example. It may crave sugar. You eat a lot of it, get fat, then curse your body for craving it in the first place. Your body isn’t at fault, you are, for not understanding how you’re supposed to operate it. Now that isn’t your fault, per se, given that you were never given an instruction manual, so it’s understandable how people get things messed up. Actually, a lot of the problems in society can be attributed to the fact that we’re all born ignorant, only acting on instincts that we don’t understand.”
“You admit to the flawed nature.”
“No, no,” Nathan said, taking a moment for another, smaller bite, dropping a few sprinkles off his lips and fighting the urge to telekinetically grab them before they hit the floor. “Stay with me. Everyone is inserted into the universe cold, and by cold I mean without foreknowledge or intel. I assume you know what a cold insertion is, from a spy’s point of view?”
Agent nodded.
“Well, we’re all inserted cold and have to figure out how things work as we go, learning on our own or from others. Turns out those sugar cravings aren’t a bad thing, just your subconscious mind telling your ‘pilot,’” Nathan said, making quote marks with his fingers and donut, “that the sugar is a good thing and that you should grab it up when you have the chance. Now, if you do that and hoard it, you could be in for some problems…but only because you’re ignoring the other signals your subconscious mind is feeding you. We call those biofeedback.”
“No…w,” he said, chewing another quick bite. “Your biofeedback monitors how much food you have in your body, kind of like a fuel gage, except that your stomach can stretch out, so ‘full’ doesn’t mean full. That’s where a lot of people go wrong, feeling that they have to be stuffed full of food in order to get a full fuel load. In truth you need to fill up your stomach only part way, multiple times per day…but since that isn’t always an option you can overload and stretch out your stomach to overfill before having a long drought and not taking in any extra.”
Nathan finished the sprinkled donut and pulled a long one with chocolate icing out from the bottom, playing Jenga with the stack.
“Your body tells you that you’re overloading through your biofeedback, but if you’re ignoring that signal and just going on the ‘sugar is great’ target analysis, then you’re going to be overloading when you don’t want to…simply because you’re ignorant of what you’re doing, even though your body is giving you all the telemetry you need, you just don’t understand it.”
He bit off the end of the donut, discovering that it was also crème filled. “Now, sugar is like rocket fuel…very useful for rockets, but overkill for less powerful situations. Someone such as you doesn’t require much, which your biofeedback will tell you. Me, on the other hand, well I burn so many calories a day I need the condensed nature of the fuel just to keep up. Food is fuel, neither good nor bad. What I need and what you need differ based on our fitness levels and our energy expenditure.”
“An ignorant person would say sugar is bad, from someone in your position…but for me, it’s an essential part of life,” he said, taking another bite that encompassed a fourth of the long bar of deliciousness. “There’s nothing to feel guilty about. It’s just fuel, and far more efficient than eating a lot of bland foods until my body pulls enough trace sugars out of them to get the fuel load I need. This way, I don’t have all the filler to process, just the refined sugars that take up less stomach space, which leaves me more mobile.”
“So sugar isn’t bad…instead it’s something very, very valuable. But in the wrong hands, in ignorant hands, you can get fat off of it. So the solution isn’t in avoiding sugar, but learning to read your biofeedback to determine how much sugar and other fuels you need. That takes time, experience, and most importantly an introspective mind. For the dumb masses it’s easier to just say something is evil and not think about it, hence the guilty consciences when people do follow their biofeedback and it conflicts with societal boundaries. They haven’t done anything wrong, but their subconscious and conscious minds are in conflict, which creates your ‘flawed and tainted’ mindset.”
Nathan shoved the rest of the donut in and chewed slowly, given that it filled most of his mouth.
“I’d heard,” Agent said into the silence, “of Archons’ off the wall lectures, but that was truly a masterpiece of disconcordant thought.”
Nathan picked up a fourth donut and held it halfway out towards Agent. “So you don’t want one?”
“No,” he said simply.
Nathan glanced back at Assad, who hadn’t moved the entire time and was still staring at Agent, though The Word operative was now ignoring him. “Oh that’s right, you probably prefer your own ingredients. We picked up some of them from Tyr, would you like us to make you your own batch? It’s not a problem, we’ve got a legion of cooks for that sort of thing.”
Agent eyed him, his disinterest having disappeared. “Even we have to eat.”
“Why not buy it…or steal it from the local market. You controlled the moon, so I doubt it would have been much trouble. You guys don’t strike me as cooks.”
“What makes you think we didn’t?”
“I meant the finished products,” Nathan said, biting into his fourth donut. “No..the..ing..ents.”
“You prefer your sugar. We have other nutritional requirements.”
“Not all that are available on the market?”
“Indeed.”
“And what, you just add the allergens for taste?” Nathan said, revealing the results of their chemical analysis on a number of the ingredients.
Agent just stared at him.
“Didn’t think we’d catch onto that?”
“I didn’t think you’d acquired samples.”
“We grabbed a few when we hit your factory the first time. Nice cleanup job afterwards. You people work fast.”
“A necessity in our line of work. You never know when uninvited guests will show up.”
“Uninvited? You practically invited us to Tyr.”
“How so?”
“Ha,” he said, biting off another bit of donut. “You have the gall to suggest to the Brazilians that they allow you to retain possession of the moon, and you don’t think that overture would attract our attention?”
Nathan didn’t need to be Ikrid linked to Agent to catch his mental slip. A slight twitch in his facial features gave away his surprise over the Archon’s revelation.
Catch that? Assad asked telepathically.
Yes I did, Nathan said, eating more donut.
“Eavesdropping on allies’ conversations now, are you?”
“Like you don’t?”
“We work alone.”
“That I figured,” Nathan said, tossing the last bit of donut up in the air and catching it in his mouth, chewing, and swallowing. “Well, four’s enough for me. Only ran five miles this morning. If you feel like working out let one of us know, we’ll arrange something. You won’t even have to give us anything in exchange.”
“Generous of you.”
“Not really. The sight of unfit people annoys us, so we don’t want you stagnating any further.”
“I’m healthy enough, thank you.”
“Better than being dead, I’ll grant you that, but the streaks of gray in your hair say otherwise.”
“Merely a sign of aging.”
“Ugh,” Nathan sighed, turning to look at Assad. “I’ll let you explain self-sufficiency to him. There’s only so much ignorance I can take per day.”
Agent smiled coyly. “So, I can expect you back tomorrow then?”
“Don’t know, we like to improvise,” Nathan said, walking out and clapping Assad on the shoulder as he left. When he got outside the room he headed over to another one further down the hall with a Regular guard stationed outside. He nodded and the man pulled open the door, let him walk through, then closed it behind him without locking it.
Inside was a woman with short black hair sitting in the corner in a single plush chair with the footrest up…but there was nothing else in the room.
“About time someone got here,” she said, sitting up a bit. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but I really have to pee first. That blasted guard hasn’t let me out of here in hours.”
Nathan smiled, appreciating her bluntness. Not all of The Word’s operatives shared the Agents’ passive persona, meaning that different interrogation techniques were required for each. Yet one more challenge presenting itself to Green Team in the most important investigation they’d ever been tasked with, and one that was solely theirs now that Red Team had returned to Sol, their mission on Tyr completed.
7
June 11, 2430
Alpha Centauri System
Glasir
“We have a problem,” the medic told Jet as he walked him through the med bay to a diagnostics holographic display detailing one of the patients’ internal organs.
“We have lots of problems,” the Archon replied. “What kind is this one?”
“Remember when you said you didn’t know why The Word had kept the Brazilian soldiers alive?”
“What did you find?” Jet asked, feeling something sinister about to surface.
“Nothing in the corpses, but some of the live ones you recovered from the stasis canisters are being used as carriers…and I think it’s linked to the food supply. It’s just a hunch, we haven’t been able to confirm anything yet.”
“What exactly are they carrying?”
“That we haven’t confirmed either, but it’s some type of designer molecule…not anything Star Force has on record.”
“Explosive?”
The medic shook his head, pointing to a side display on the hologram that showed a cellular analysis. “This isn’t explosive, or rather not of itself. I think it’s a molecular key. One of these people is smuggled into a population…maybe even just released back into the public, meaning they don’t have to be complicit, and the molecule combines with something else in the environment triggering an action. What that action is, is the underlying question.”
“Wait…how is it combined? And is it replicating or a finite amount?”
“It’s not viral, just a molecular substance that has been saturated into their bodies. The saturation means it’ll linger for quite a while until it’s processed out, making for a long lasting trigger…which also means whatever it is the key to requires only a small amount of the molecules to activate.”
Jet crossed his arms over his chest. “Combined inside the body?”
The medic wavered. “Possibly, but trace amounts will also be found in bodily fluids, such as sweat. Meaning that mere touch could transmit the molecules.”
“How would that be connected to the foodstuffs? If it’s external?”
“I honestly don’t know, and I hate to speculate, but I can think of a lot of nasty things they could be up to. With a trigger molecule, which I’m convinced this is, it could be linked to a lot of things. They could activate a latent virus in other people that begins to spread when the trigger is present. It could be, as you implied, the trigger to explosives within certain individuals’ bodies that a handshake could set off…or a kiss. I really don’t want to speculate until we have more data to work with.”
“You think the foodstuffs are delivering one part of a binary mechanism to a broad population and these individuals are the activation triggers?”
“That’s my current line of thought, yes.”
Jet stared at the hologram, which was showing locations of the molecules within nearly all portions of the patient’s body, save for the brain. “Can you flush them out?”
The medic nodded. “They’ll eventually work their way out, for the most part, and we can accelerate the process. Thankfully we can scan for them, with the right settings, but there’s no quick remedy…at least, not that we’ve created yet. This is another job for Earth or Corneria, but we’ll do as much as we can here.”
“Are the molecules harming the carriers?”
“Not at all. I believe that doing so would cause questions to be raised and that’s exactly what The Word wants to avoid. I’d bet they designed them to be totally innocuous.”
“What about the allergens?”
The medic altered the hologram, pulling up a different patient file while minimizing the current one off to the left. “They were doing a lot of different things with the foodstuff samples you retrieved. The allergens need no trigger. This is a medical scan from three years ago on Titan. The individual developed symptoms, along with three others, on the same day and was attributed to a bad batch of foodstuffs, but no other contaminated products were discovered. It was supposed that the only bad ones were consumed, but I’ve been able to match up the symptoms with the theoretical ones that our Word allergens created in computer models…and it’s a precise match.”
Jet rubbed his chin. “What kind of damage does it do?”
“Nothing irreversible, unless you get a very weak individual, in which case there’s a small chance of death. It’s basically tailored food poisoning. Very nasty reaction that passes with time.”
“And you’re convinced the trigger molecule is completely unrelated?”
“95% sure, though there are some overlapping possibilities that we need to explore, such as trinary compounds and more complicated interactions.”
“Do you mind?” Jet asked, pointing at the hologram.
“Please,” the medic offered, taking a step back.
Jet accessed the nearby keyboard and went outside Glasir’s medical database and into the master files that got shuffled around from system to system, keeping all Star Force outposts up to date on things they couldn’t get from other locations without considerable delay…such as foodstuff production statistics.
Jet sifted through several databases until his search came in, then he ran it against several other sets of data, compiling a list and bringing it up in holo in the form of a timeline, pointing at the start of a three year spike.
“There’s your contaminated foodstuffs, two months from the first entry. Our facilities are too well run to come up with bad batches other than on freakishly rare occasions. There’s a consistent trend of incidents starting three years ago that’s gradually been escalating, but it’s been occurring in multiple systems at multiple locations. It looks like the largest was 21 people on Orion.”
“That’s minuscule. Probably wouldn’t have drawn regional awareness, let alone interstellar.”
“There were four other cases in the Sirius System, each with no more than 10 people affected. If you look at any one instance it appears isolated and nothing more than a fluke…but on a whole there’s a pattern of minor incidents, like a shotgun approach. They’re either testing or going for a gradual escalation. They’re certainly patient enough for the latter.”
“But to what end?”
“Discrediting Star Force,” Jet said without hesitation. “They’ve been sabotaging industrial, commercial, transit, and other facilities for years. Nothing major as far as casualties, but enough to start making us appear incompetent. One of their major goals appears to be discredit us and pull away some of our public support, so staging food contamination makes perfect sense.”
The medic frowned, then gestured to the timeline. “Even something this isolated?”
“Word gets around, and with as much as they were producing here I’d bet they’ve got more disruptions planned. Keep working on that trigger. If we can find the lock it fits into we may be able to preempt them.”
“One other thing. In one of the samples, a protein bar, we found a biological marker…and by that I mean a substance that is scannable. Eat the bar and it’ll show up on a specially calibrated EM reflection.”
“What kind of range?”
“Unlimited, depending on the strength of the transmitter and the sensitivity of the receiver.”
“Best guess?”
“You’d have to ask an engineer about that, but I’d say considerably more than a few meters. The reflectivity is far higher than the scanning equipment we use.”
“Thank you,” Jet said, turning to leave.
“The more they eat, the more visible they’ll be.”
“Way ahead of you,” Jet said, flashing him a smile as he headed out of the med bay.
A day and a half later Jet was back on Tyr along with Lio and Assad. The three Archons had spaced themselves around the city dressed in full armor with Brazilian security teams backing them, courtesy of Costa, as a Star Force transport ship flew in to one of the spaceports and made a slight detour, drifting out over the center of the city and holding position just above the armored exterior. There it sat, beginning to broadcast the specific frequency necessary to generate the sensor reflectivity of the tagged foodstuffs.
Each of the Archons had a receiver of their own, plus a patch into the transport’s sensors, which had been augmented at the same time as the transmitter by an engineering team on Glasir. As soon as the invisible energy began flowing out Jet got an immediate contact on his sensor pad…along with 14 others spaced around the city, including two very large signals which he guessed were probably depots holding the laced foodstuffs.
“Let’s go,” he told the security team, picking the closest target to his location, one that was coming in faint. The semi-armored guards followed him in a phalanx as he led them through the city, insuring that no one stopped him and he had access to all restricted areas. As they tracked the target he recognized the fact that it was moving a bit, which suggested that it was a person rather than an inert bar, and he was proved correct when they ended up in a residential area and the personal quarters of a financier.
Security got him in through the locked door, whereupon they quickly rounded up some four people in the quarters…two parents and two children who were none too pleased to have their evening interrupted.
“There’s no one else here,” one of the guards told Jet after coming back from a search of the other rooms to the main living area where the foursome had been watching a large vid screen.
“What’s the meaning of…”
Jet walked up to the wife and jabbed a finger into her chest just below the neck as he watched his scanner. “This one.”
Two of the guards walked around behind the woman and gently grabbed her shoulders, escorting her over to the doorway while her husband tried to intervene, but Jet stopped him with a firm hand on his chest.
“Not you.”
“What’s going on?” the boy asked.
“You three stay here,” Jet ordered, pointing to the kids and gently pushing the man down into a chair. “We’re going to have a little chat later, but for now these men are going to stay with you and ask you some questions. I’ll be back in a bit. Answer them truthfully and it will save me some time.”
With that Jet turned and left the room, leaving two guards behind and trailing another half dozen in his wake.
Their next stop was also a residential area, but in a different section of the city. This time they found an abandoned set of quarters that the logs indicated hadn’t been inhabited for the past 7 months. Upon closer inspection Jet found a concealed wall panel, inside of which he found a series of empty protein bar wrappers, each with smears of chocolate and crumbs, the sum total of which had enough reflectivity to stand out faintly on his equipment given the huge amount of signal the overhead transport was generating.
A quick records search indicated that the previous occupant no longer resided in the city, and Jet made a note to add him to Star Force’s detain list once he got back to Glasir.
His third target was one of the two big ones, inside of which he and the guards got into a brief firefight with the occupants of a small warehouse. Four men were captured, though two of the guards received plasma burns and had to be transferred to one of Tyr’s medical facilities…but more were cycling over to Jet’s entourage to make up for those lost, as well as to give the warehouse a thorough teardown.
Jet went straight for one crate, inside of which he found boxes of protein bars, all of which were giving a very strong reflection of the signal, making this one of The Word’s distribution centers…though he didn’t know if they were piggybacking onto the normal operations of a legitimate warehouse or running the whole facility.
The men captured were transferred to the spaceport and held there until the three Archons returned, which would be several hours later. Jet, for his part, rounded up one more individual, this one a retired geologist, then returned to the family he’d initially broken up while the guards escorted the prisoners and warehouse holdings to Star Force dropships on their way up to the moon.
Jet pulled off his helmet as he motioned to the guards to remain outside the living room and guard the entrance, giving him a personal audience with the husband and two frightened children whose mother he’d taken away.
“Ira Demora?” Jet asked, reading the debriefing the guards had already completed on a Brazilian datapad. “Channa…and Demarco?”
“Yes,” Ira, the father, answered from his large chair while the two children sat on the couch so close together they looked like they were stuck at the hips.
“Time to talk,” Jet said, adding a dark tone to his voice. Even without his helmet his silver armor was incredibly intimidating, but the look in his eyes was even more so.
“What do you want to know? I answered all of their questions. Why have you taken my wife?”
Jet walked forward a step and stared down at the man, who shrunk back into the deep cushions. “The protein bars.”
Recognition and horror flashed through Ira’s eyes, then he quickly tried to hide it. “I don’t know…what, hey!”
Jet lifted the man out of his seat by the collar of his shirt and stared into his eyes from about a foot away. “Don’t play games. Tell me what happened.”
The man didn’t answer for what seemed like an eternity, then he finally whispered, so low only Jet could hear. “She’s dead if I do.”
Jet dropped him into his chair and walked back into the center of the room, halfway between the man and the couch that held his children. “We can do this here or in an interrogation room. Your choice.”
“Will you promise me…us immunity?” he stammered.
“What did you do?” Jet countered.
“New identities too…please.”
“We can protect you if you cooperate,” Jet said, guessing where this was going enough that he didn’t feel the need to remove a glove and dig for answers. “But I need it all now. The longer you delay the more time they’ll have to get to you.”
Ira’s eyebrows raised. “You know about them?”
“Who do you think we just kicked off this moon? Now tell me what’s going on with your wife?”
“She’s innocent, I swear. They threatened to kill her if I didn’t cooperate. They said she had to eat a specific foodstuff that they’d provide, and that they’d be able to monitor her whereabouts 24/7 through it. If she ever didn’t eat it they’d kill her, and if I didn’t do as they said they’d kill her…so you see, I had to do what they said. I had no choice!”
Jet glanced at the children. “Is this all of your family?”
“On Tyr. I have relatives on Mars and Earth.”
“Have they ever been threatened?”
“No, just my wife.”
“How were the bars’ delivered?”
“A package would come, with some random item in it along with one bar. They only sent one at a time, about every 2 weeks. She had to eat the whole thing.”
“What did you do for them?”
“Illegal things,” he said, lowering his head. “My wife had no part in it, nor my children. Only I did.”
“Does your wife know?”
“Not the specifics. I wanted to shield her from it all.”
“What specifically did you do?”
“Mostly forgeries. Economic transactions, currency transfers. All local stuff…nothing touching Star Force’s systems. I didn’t have any access codes to those. Every now and then they’d come to me with something they wanted done, always at a random time. So long as I complied they let me and my family live in peace.”
“Why didn’t you report it to security?”
Ira swallowed hard. “They killed one of my coworkers to make a point. They told me who, then the next day she died in an accident. I knew I couldn’t risk telling anyone.”
“In return for full disclosure and assisting us with backtracking your forgeries I’ll agree to relocate you and your family, complete with new identities, to a Star Force colony far from here.”
“If you can guarantee our safety?”
“I’ll take you somewhere they can’t go,” Jet promised.
Ira seemed to hesitate, then started bobbing his head.
“Yes…ok, yes. I agree. How soon can we go? My wife too, I assume?”
“Your wife will have to be purged of the tracer first, but she’ll go as well. You’ve got 15 minutes to get the four of you packed,” Jet said pointing a finger at the bedrooms. “Leave anything non-essential behind.”
“Thank you,” Ira said, bolting out of his seat and heading over to his children, though he made sure to keep clear of Jet by a few feet as he passed him by. He grabbed both of their small hands and walked them over to their rooms, whispering to them as they asked him questions, telling them they were about to take a trip.
Jet put his helmet back on, then walked out to where the guards were waiting. “I need the quickest secure route to the spaceport. The Word may try to take him out in transit if they’re keeping a close watch, so I want clear hallways ahead and behind us. Pull in as many men as you need…so long as you can trust them.”
“You think there are traitors among us?”
“Possibly. I’ll accompany the package. You secure the route…and get it done within the next 15 minutes. After that we’re heading out, even if I have to take them off the grid to do it.”
“I’ll have it done for you in 10, sir.”
“Good…and don’t call me sir.”
8
June 22, 2430
Alpha Centauri System
Glasir
A commercial transport, twice the size of a Dragon-class dropship, descended from orbit fighting Glasir’s deep gravity well enroute to the primary spaceport in the Star Force colony simply designated as ‘City 2.’ It landed slowly, extending numerous skids as it set down in the nitrogen-rich atmosphere on an exterior pad. It was one of many newer models produced by Star Force’s competitors, and was capable of making slow jumps between planets in the same system, forgoing the need to use dropships to load/unload orbital starships that accomplished the same task.
Star Force, meanwhile, had been sticking with their familiar dropship designs and gradually upgrading their gravity drives, so that now a trip from planet to moon didn’t require a starship, and while it was technically possible to travel between planets, efficient travel would require a larger gravity drive than the craft fielded. Star Force had instead pushed their production of basic, cheap interplanetary transports of far greater size for the dropships to transfer cargo to/from that would remain purely starships.
That was the more economical route, but for some midlevel haulers and independent operators the one-ship fits all duties platform was preferable, giving Star Force’s competitors a small niche in the market that the mega corporation didn’t care to directly compete in, making the Juniper-class transport setting down in the Star Force spaceport a fairly common sight.
There wasn’t as much private commerce within Star Force colonies as national or independent ones, but there was still a fair amount of open market trade where the basic necessities were already covered by location production sources. Clan colonies were a bit more reclusive, but they also allowed for people and cargo to come and go as they chose, with many non-Star Force businesses operating out of Star Force worlds, necessitating that the design of the shipyards be able to accept not only Star Force-produced craft, but their competitors’ versions as well…hence the large, open air landing field.
Given the unlivable atmospheric conditions Glasir’s spaceports were internal, with the atmosphere being kept at bay by energy fields that the dropships could pass through, but for the exterior landing pads there were subsurface tunnels running out to small bunkers scattered about like boulders on the otherwise smooth, flat plain…each of which contained an array of modular shield generators that would extend a bubble of normal atmosphere out to mate with the loading doors on the large transports, or in lieu of that extend smaller physical tubes out to connect gangways to the large ships’ airlocks.
Today the shields were to be used, and once the pilot had set the juniper down in the correct position five tiny arms reached out from the bunker to the hull of the transport forming the outline of the shield conduit, then they powered up starting at the base and extended their shield walls out between them along with a plug to push out the bad atmosphere similar to an aquatics’ shield column.
The arms glowed blue once the seal had been established, giving the offloading crews a visual indicator that all was safe, then the main cargo door/ramp detached from the ship and pivoted down exposing a cavernous cargo bay…out of which walked a half dozen passengers, followed by a procession of cargo lifters carrying crates.
The six men dressed in civilian clothes walked into the bunker and ducked out a personnel exit that led them directly to the city interior with only a small security checkpoint to pass through, given that they’d arrived on a non-Star Force flight. Three corporate employees, one personnel division and two security were seated behind a protective clear wall within the hallway, allowing a narrow walkthrough scanning tunnel as the only way past.
The first man went through cleanly, then began to deal with the dark blue uniformed attendant who required his ID. As he reached into a pocket and brought out his identification card the second man in line came through the scanner and waited in line.
When the third came through and set off the device, all hell broke loose.
The first man grabbed the attendant and smashed his head into the table while the second simultaneously jumped up and over the counter, rushing the pair of guards…both of whom were wearing stinger pistols in hip holsters. The Word operative kicked one of the gold/white uniformed men back into the wall while wrenching the other’s arm out away from his body as he reached for his weapon…then the man who’d set off the sensor leaned over the counter where the attendant was pinned down face first and aimed a plasma pistol at the nearest guard, shooting him at a range of 2 meters.
The Word operative swung the other guard around and into the firing line, with him being dropped just as easily, never having a chance to draw his pistol. The first man released the attendant, who also caught a plasma lance to the chest as the other men came through the sensor tunnel, all of them setting it off, then they passed out weapons and body armor to the first two men who made them disappear inside their loose clothing before the six walked out into the city drawing a few startled scares and screams, but once they split up and got into the pedestrian flow they quickly disappeared amongst the masses, using a small scanning device to locate the reflectivity tag within the city.
Agent woke up in his bed…not a prison bed, but his bed back in his apartment on Tyr. He blinked his eyes, not seeming to get them fully open. He was groggy, and he found the sensation familiar. As his mind began to process more and kick off some of the sleep drunkenness faster than his eyes, he remembered going through this before and wondered why he wasn’t sleeping right.
Still unable to get his vision completely clear he sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed, hoping that would wake him up further but it did not. Resigning to work himself out of his stupor he stood up and went about his morning routine of shaving, showering, and receiving a delivery at 8:32 on the spot. He went to the door, now freshly dressed in a blan set of civilian clothes, and accepted the warm breakfast packet with a smile and tipped the delivery man.
He locked the apartment door behind him and went back into his small dining area and sat down on the half table sticking out of the wall just below a vid screen that held daily news broadcasts, but his eyes were so bleary that he couldn’t make them out, not that he cared anyway. He opened the box and felt the steam rise up from a plateful of eggs, two pieces of toast, and five strips of synthetic bacon, given that Brazil didn’t allow the sale of meat, taking after Star Force’s protocol like a whimpering pup following its mother around.
There was a disposable fork in the box and he set to eating the eggs as he reached for his sunglasses that he’d left on the table. He slid them on and the genetic recognition software confirmed his identity and activated the built in HUD and wireless receiver that allowed him to tap into The Word’s private information net.
He blinked his eyes again, trying to make out the data that popped up but only got a few words…then seeing those his mind seemed to wake up a bit and more text flowed, along with several data graphs that he’d been looking at the other day. As he ate he ran through a list of projects he’d been keeping tabs on, finding no new updates.
That was strange, he remembered, because he was supposed to have gotten word back from Operative Alpha 32 last night. Even if he got delayed he should have logged in early this morning.
Agent’s eyes flashed over to the news vids, wondering if his kidnapping attempt had been unsuccessful. Even if he’d been killed, word of that sort of thing usually made the news, and he could think of no other reason why he wouldn’t have reported in.
Then something in his mind clicked, and he checked the updates feed again, finding not one new piece of information.
He pulled his sunglasses off and looked directly at the video screen…finding himself unable to make out anything other than a wibbly wobbly picture that had no detail, only a familiar sound and images, such as the news desk. Agent focused hard on it, then just as he was about to realize it wasn’t real he blacked out, returning to a dreamless rest as Nathan removed his fingers from the man’s forehead.
He sighed, standing up from the head of the cell bunk and walking back out past where the containment shield usually would emit. It was shut off at the moment, but Nathan tagged it back on as soon as he was on the other side, then checked the wall clock, seeing that he had 3 more minutes until it was time to wake him and start the interrogation cycle all over again, meaning he wasn’t going to have a chance to run another mental simulation.
He’d gotten fairly proficient at it, not just because of the experience he was gaining working on Agent and the other Word prisoners, but because he was becoming familiar with the way this man’s mind worked. Normal interrogation methods had been almost completely ineffective on him. He wouldn’t respond to deal making, logic, intimidation, lying, flattery, insults, or any of the other mind games Star Force typically employed to gleam information out of prisoners.
Unlike unsavory intelligence agencies, Star Force didn’t rely on torturing prisoners to gain information, rather both Star Force security and the Archons relied on mechanical and eyes-on reconnaissance to gather data, with anything gained from prisoners being extra, and usually suspect. They could trust their own eyes and sensors, but what an individual chose to tell them was not so easy to swallow if they couldn’t confirm it, which was why the information they were getting from the rest of The Word operatives and associates was being treated as leads rather than facts.
That said, the Archons did employ a few physical prods where the security division didn’t, one of which was self-imposed sleep deprivation. Recently the Archons had been keeping Agent awake round the clock, with them taking shifts talking with or to him…though aside from Nathan he rarely spoke to any of them. When he would begin to nod off they’d poke him or shake his shoulders, nothing violent, but just enough to keep him awake until he agreed to ‘earn’ his sleep by doing workouts.
2 miles a day at sub 8:00 pace got him 6 hours of sleep, which David had been running him through, both as guard and pace keeper when he took him over to the track, which other Archons and personnel were simultaneously using. Agent had found that odd, but given that David never got more than a few meters away from him at any time there was no real security issue to deal with. What could have been mistaken for sloppiness actually worked to reinforce Star Force’s dominance over The Word, for it became clear that neither David nor anyone else on the track was concerned about the skinny stick that was waddling around the track at pedestrian pace.
That almost seemed to embarrass Agent, but if he wanted to sleep he had to do the workouts, so once a day he’d go over to the track with David and get his 8 laps in, then shower in the Star Force locker rooms nearby before being brought over to the interrogation/conference rooms for another round of questions/lectures by varying individuals. He’d have to stay awake despite the powerful urge to nap until they were finished, with his meals brought in, then he’d get to go back to his cell and sleep…only to be woke up before he was truly rested, meaning he was carrying some lingering fatigue with him, something the Archons were intimately acquainted with.
That fatigue had loosened his mind, if not his lips. No longer was there a solid wall of resistance within the man’s conscious thoughts. It was sagging a bit, having to compete with his wobbly head…and if he refused to run the workouts he’d be even worse off being sleep deprived, so either way it was working on him in a way Agent had not anticipated.
Actually, Nathan had learned that Agent had undergone resistance training to interrogation, including sleep deprivation, which was why the man wanted to avoid it at all costs, knowing how it would affect his mental state. Star Force would never subject someone to it unless they had an out, but in this case the out was working more against Agent than he realized, all because the man had never done much physical training before and his mind was being inundated with new sensations and stresses, along with his body, whose hamstrings, back, and shins were quite sore.
Nathan found that amusing, but it also tied up more mental power that Agent couldn’t use to hold his mind clenched up. During interrogation sessions he was still hard to read, but there were a few slivers of memories that he and the other Archons had pulled in response to questions, mainly due to the fact that his normally quick reacting mind had slowed due to his lingering fatigue and there were reactive thoughts breaking through into the Archons’ psionic range for a second or two before he could lock them down.
Using those tidbits Nathan had begun constructing mental simulations and feeding them to Agent as he woke up from one of his 6 hour stints…but he didn’t let him fully return to consciousness. He kept him in a semi-dream state where he could access his mind, but not enough for the man’s senses to interfere with the fiction he was feeding him. In the beginning the simulations hadn’t lasted long before Agent saw through them, but each time Nathan gathered more information and used it in later sessions, making a more complete scenario that kept the man inundated with normalcy for a longer period of time.
It also helped that after the workouts Agent was butt tired, so when he went to sleep he released all his mental walls and was truly out of it until he woke up. By keeping him from reaching that point Nathan had access to his surface thoughts without any resistance until he started to suspect something, such as when the news vids were unreadable. That had been necessary, for when Nathan had replayed old versions from the man’s memory he caught on pretty quick, and newer ones that Nathan had watched couldn’t be projected with enough clarity, given that the Archon’s skills in this department were still limited.
He could only project a small range of images, so he had to use Agent’s own memories and allow him to draw on them while the Archon changed small things.
When the clock reached the completion of Agent’s 6 hours, down to the second, Nathan hit the buzzer that woke the man up in a start, with the sudden shock shaking off any remainder of the ‘dream’ he’d just gone through, though Nathan doubted any of it had remained after how deep he’d sunk the man back into unconsciousness…though it didn’t hurt to be thorough.
“Wakey, wakey,” he said with a smile as Agent reached up and put a hand on his forehead as he sat up, clearly feeling the effects of continuous days of training. His body probably needed 10-12 hours of sleep to adjust to the stresses, so only 6 was leaving him fried even when he woke…though not sleep deprived, for his eyes cleared quickly enough and he got his feet back under him and stood up, waiting for Nathan to lower the shield.
He glanced at the clock as Nathan removed the energy barrier. “Punctual as always.”
“Workout time,” Nathan said, motioning him forward. Agent sighed and followed him out and down the row of cell blocks, each of which had a wall and door separating them from the hallway so the prisoners couldn’t see or hear each other, keeping with Star Force’s prisoner isolation policy.
Nathan escorted him out of the security station and into the city where he handed him over to David, who then took him through the semi-crowded streets over to the track, almost daring him to try and escape.
When they came back Nathan was waiting in the interrogation room, having his own breakfast tray at one end of the table and Agent’s opposite his…with the Archon’s being stacked up three times as high with foodstuffs.
“What’d you finish in today?” he asked as Agent walked over and sat down without preamble.
“15:57,” he said, looking at his tray, then at Nathan’s. “I must admit, I am beginning to understand your affinity for sugar,” he revealed, taking a bite into an iced muffin.
“Finally making some progress,” Nathan smiled as if he was a buddy rather than an enemy, chewing into a long sugar stick.
“Are you Archons always this sore?”
“No.”
“Then it appears I must adapt further,” he said, taking a small swig of water while Nathan gulped his, having gotten his own morning workout in before his ‘dream’ session with Agent.
“I’ll swap you training advice for Word secrets,” he offered.
“I’m not that sore.”
“Yet,” Nathan smirked before sinking his teeth into a long donut, twitching halfway through the bite as his earpiece chirped, though only loud enough that he could hear it. That was odd, because they weren’t supposed to be disturbed during interrogation sessions.
All the smirk disappeared out of his face as he stood up, dropping the donut in his hand back onto the tray and quickly chewing what was in his mouth.
Agent noticed, and Nathan’s smirk seemed to migrate its way over to his face, though he didn’t say anything, but he did lock eyes with the Archon.
Nathan frowned even deeper as he telepathically sensed minds nearby moving about in an agitated state, with one disappearing entirely.
He stepped over to a shelf and grabbed a set of handcuffs, then ran over to the end of the table and pulled Agent out of his chair, binding his hands behind him.
“You could at least let me finish breakfast,” he said sarcastically, but offered no resistance.
“Stay put,” Nathan said, shoving him back down into his chair before running out the door.
9
When David dropped off Agent he didn’t stick around, instead leaving the security station and heading towards the city’s small Archon sanctum to get his own workouts in before coming back and working on some of the lower level operatives. He’d been making progress with some of them, and two had already cracked, accepting deals in exchange for information. Altogether the bits and pieces of mostly unconfirmed intel were painting a picture of The Word’s operations on Tyr, but the most valuable bits were coming from Agent, due almost entirely to Nathan’s efforts.
They knew this Agent hadn’t been the only one operating on Tyr, but rather one of three. This one’s ‘name’ was number 7. He was responsible for operations within the city’s populace, rather than the Word’s infrastructure. He’d been recruited at least 30 years ago, and had done some very basic fitness training to increase his longevity…but more so in recent years as The Word tried to ascertain the source of Star Force personnel’s longevity, though they still didn’t fully buy the training angle.
Nathan had uncovered more than two dozen operations The Word had previously conducted, or were in the process of conducting when the Tyr operation began, giving Green Team some leads that David had the others tracking down, leaving only him, Nathan, Lio, and Axe to lead the interrogations, though they had the support of the local security force and the scattering of Archons assigned to the city.
David was 50 meters out from the security station when a group of Regulars came rushing out behind him, running towards the nearest elevator…with one of them flagging him down and lagging behind as the first few disappeared into an open car.
“What’s going on?” he asked, running over to them.
“The spaceport has been compromised. More than 100 enemy troops have broken through and are working their way to city control.”
“Who?” David asked as the next five armored security guards claimed the next car, leaving four times that number waiting in line.
“Don’t know. They’re wearing armor we don’t recognize.”
“I’ll meet you there,” David said, having heard enough and sprinting off through the pedestrian crowd that so far hadn’t been told there was an invasion underway. As he wove his way between the clusters of people enroute to the Archon armory where he’d stashed his armor and weapons he tapped his earpiece and filled in the other three members of Green Team on what was happening.
As he was doing that and the bulk of the security station’s forces were deploying, along with troops from multiple stations across the city as well as the small defense garrison, the six Word operatives emerged from the crowd and slipped in the front doors of the station, pulling out their weapons at the last moment and gunning down the lone guard that remained along with two attendants before scrambling inside and fighting through those personnel in the building that responded to the weaponsfire, enroute to the reflectivity marker in Agent’s body that had been exposed when the time-sensitive blocking chemical had run its course.
Nathan ran out into the hallway that stretched the length of the interrogation rooms, or rather the rooms that had been repurposed to handle that function. He kept a lock on Agent’s mind to insure that he did in fact stay put all the while sensing a beehive of activity a couple levels below him near the stairwell. One of the minds disappeared, meaning they either dropped into a very, very deep unconsciousness and the output of their mental processes dipped below his detection range, or all mental activity ceased, meaning someone had just died.
Ahead of him an armored Regular stepped out of a side room and headed towards the stairs ahead of Nathan and the Archon let him go ahead, given that he was both unarmed and unarmored. When they got down to the level below them two lances of plasma fire shot past the Regular, with a third hitting him in the shoulder of his dirty white armor as he fired back with his stinger pistol.
Nathan tracked the nearby minds and sent Fornax blasts into each of them in sequence, knocking them off balance and allowing the Regular to close range while he waited on the stairs out of the firing line. He felt the minds intermix and clicked on his Pefbar while maintaining the Fornax blasts so he could see through the wall as the Regular engaged the men hand to hand, using their own bodies to block the firing lines of the others as he took another plasma hit to his armor.
Wobbling as they were, two of the attackers charged forward and used their mass to try and tackle the Regular, but the longtime veteran smacked one aside and held the other at bay, punching into his chest and knocking him backwards, but the man came away with his stinger pistol, leaving the Regular only his armored body to fight with.
Wisely the Regular stepped forward and grabbed one of the enemy’s dropped plasma pistols and shot the nearest operative as Nathan disabled him again. The man took a nearly pointblank hit to the chest and the Regular twisted to the side to shoot another one jumping for him…then the first man who’d been shot got back up and dove onto the Regular, knocking him and his compatriot down.
The others didn’t wait, but rushed on past with Nathan knocking down another two, unable to hold a Fornax field without also disabling the Regular, though he was about to do that anyway so he could get down to them and grab a weapon. He didn’t have time, for the operatives left the others behind and jumped up the stairwell coming around the corner to where Nathan was.
Disabling another he retreated back up to the next level and took cover behind the corner. When the first of them came up onto the platform and entered the hallway Nathan disabled him with a Fornax blast and punched into his chest with a stiffened palm, expecting to knock the man out with a single blow, then turn his attention to the next one coming up…but his hand hit something hard and he realized the men were wearing armor beneath their civilian clothing.
The momentum still knocked the man back, but not out. Those behind him slipped by, firing ahead of them into the hallway while Nathan was to the side, not allowing him to charge through to get to them. Had the doorway been narrower he could have ambushed them one at a time, but he could ‘see’ them coming up side by side half a second from shooting him.
He hit them both with a short range Fornax field as they pressed through and aimed at him, spraying the wall with plasma as he dove into a nearby door, smashing the latch down to open it as his shoulder hit it. He tumbled through, with the jerky arm of one of the men firing an erratic plasma blast that caught Nathan in the right calf.
He collapsed, but managed to turn it into a roll and came up on his knees facing the door, putting his left leg up and pressure on that foot, ready to jump in whatever direction he needed as the pain seared from the burnt hole in his otherwise disabled right leg.
His Pefbar and Ikrid tracking had disabled with the hit, so he didn’t know where the operatives were for a couple of seconds until no one came after him and he got a lock on their minds again, seeing that they were bypassing him and heading straight for Agent.
Standing up on his good leg and hopping towards the door he’d rammed through, he poked his head out into the hallway just as the Regular came up the stairway, his armor a mess of burn marks and holes.
“They’re after the prisoner,” Nathan said, pointing down the hallway just as one of the operatives came back out and sprinted towards them, firing plasma. Nathan ducked back inside the door and reached out with is mind to send a Fornax blast into the man just as the hallway behind him exploded, sending a concussion wave of compressed air and debris down towards them.
The operative took flight and the Regular was also knocked down, with Nathan being partially obscured but still knocked backwards by the blast and onto his butt, given that he couldn’t catch himself on his other leg. When he rolled himself over and up onto his hands and knees he saw the operative trading punches with the Regular through the doorway, then the commando slammed the enemy down onto his back and landed an elbow jab into his armored midsection.
“Unsung sparrows migrate underne…” Nathan heard the operative say, then thinking fast he pulled a Vader and telekinetically gripped the man’s throat, pushing in on his windpipe so he couldn’t speak the detonation trigger.
“Shoot him,” Nathan said, working hard to hold the pressure.
“He’s not going anywhere,” the Regular said, looking around for his stinger pistol.
“Quickly,” the Archon urged. “He’s a walking bomb and I can’t keep him silent forever.”
The Regular did a double take from inside his helmet, then saw the man’s plasma pistol nearby and dove for it, having to release the operative to do it.
“Un…” the man tried to say, massaging his tight throat with his hands as he stayed put, focusing entirely on the detonation phrase. The next moment a lance of blue shot out from the side of the doorway and hit the man in the chest, but the armor stopped most of it.
“Unsung spa…rrows…”
“In the head!” Nathan yelled.
Gritting his teeth, the Regular walked up to the man and brought the pistol within a foot of his forehead and pulled the trigger.
The operative flopped back onto the floor and Nathan was able to let go of his intermittent Lachka, which had been near to failing entirely. Down the hallway where Nathan couldn’t see a few other people came out of the interrogation rooms, walking over the rubble and trying to figure out what was going on. The Regular spotted them, saw that they weren’t loose prisoners, then walked in towards Nathan.
“How bad are you hit?” he asked, kneeling down in front of him.
“Forget me,” Nathan said, spitting out a bit of blood from where he’d bit his tongue when he got hit. “Where are the others?”
“Down below.”
“Find and kill them all,” Nathan said icily, but it was danger rather than vengeance driving the order. “If they speak a few words they can detonate…the triggers and explosives are inside their bodies. Kill them all, even if they’re unconscious, and do it quickly.”
The Regular swallowed hard, not liking the order. “I understand,” he said, retreating out the door to do what was necessary. He’d seen the blast a few rooms down and he knew what kind of destructive power the Archon was referring to, even if he wasn’t familiar with The Word’s Dargomir-laced Human bombs.
Nathan stayed put, looking down at his leg and wishing he hadn’t. There was a hole burnt straight through his calf muscle, leaving a charred little tunnel that was seeping a lot of blood. He knew if he tried to stand on it he wouldn’t be able to, and would further shred the muscle in the attempt.
David was too far away to hear the explosion, already having gotten most of the way to the armory when it went off. Once he got there, into his armor, and back out to where the fighting was happening it was mostly over, with only a few roaming Word troops left in play, and those were being hunted down by closer teams than him, leaving the Archon little to do other than sort through the bodies, almost all of which were the enemy’s. Even with the element of surprise, Star Force’s security teams and a pair of Archon adepts that had been within response range had torn through the invaders quite efficiently, making him wonder what they had been attempting to accomplish.
The question of who they were was quickly answered when he got a look at their plasma rifles…typical Word make, though the dark brown body armor, complete with helmet, was a new addition. It hadn’t done much to stop the stingers though, for their stun energy had soaked right through, leaving most of those down merely unconscious, with security collecting their weapons and bagging their new prisoners with hand and ankle restraints.
“What the hell were you guys after?” he said, getting on his helmet comm and contacting Green Team. “The incursion is all but over. Security is rounding up the strays. They’re Word troops, maybe here to go after the prisoners? I don’t know what they were after, but they didn’t get very far.”
“David…” Nathan responded, and he could tell by his strained voice that there was trouble. “They got a team through. Agent is dead and I’m hit. Their troops are walking bombs.”
“Where are you?” David asked, his mind racing at he looked out over all the prisoners lying in front of him. Before Nathan could even respond he pulled his stinger rifle off his back and started shooting the unconscious/semi-conscious prisoners, knowing full well all it would take is a handful of words to turn themselves into living landmines.
“Security station. Got a Regular cleaning up their team. Don’t let any more detonate, take them out with plasma.”
“We’ve got most unconscious and I’m going to make sure they stay that way,” David told him as he continued to pump out more rounds. “I’ll warn the remaining teams. How bad are you hit?”
“Plasma burn straight through the calf. I won’t be running anytime soon.”
“Hang tight and we’ll get you back to Earth.”
“I’m fine,” Nathan lied, “focus on the exploding bad guys please.”
“Already on it. Get back to you when we’re secure.”
Nathan grimaced, leaning forward onto his elbows and trying to hold his injured leg still as he stared down at the floor back towards his knees. Pushing past the pain he tried to slip into Sesspik mode if just to accelerate the scabbing process and cut down on the bleeding, which had now accumulated into a small puddle near his foot.
He turtled up into a ball and stayed put, doing quick mental checks of the surrounding area now and then, but otherwise focusing on numbing his mind against the pain and healing what little he could on his own.
The remaining Word troops were taken down without explosions before David could get out to any of the teams hunting them, then he ordered massive stinger hits on all the captives as he called in medical teams to do immediate surgery to remove their detonation triggers. The first few unconscious bodies they lugged over to the nearest medical station, however, didn’t have any.
In fact none of them did, making David wonder just who had gotten to the security station, killed Agent, and wounded Nathan. When he finally confirmed all the potential explosive enemies were duds he headed back over to the station and saw for himself the explosive damage, as well as the dead operatives that had yet to be removed, with the onsite medical personnel attending to the Star Force casualties first, including Nathan, who’d he’d already talked to outside on the way to a med bay.
“No armor,” he commented to a pair of Regulars standing guard nearby, having been redeployed from elsewhere to secure the now vulnerable station.
“Look under their clothing,” one of them suggested, having been onsite for longer than the Archon had.
David knelt down next to one that had a plasma burn in the side of the head and undid the buttons on his loose shirt. He got through two of them telekinetically, given his armored gloves weren’t so good at such tiny tasks, then just said to hell with it and ripped the shirt apart, revealing a form-fitting chest plate, not dark brown, but very pale tan that was a shade lighter than his skin.
“Pulled security away with a diversion, then came in with these walking bombs. Well played, you assholes,” David said as he stood up, looking around the lobby and heading for the stairs. He passed three other bodies on the way up, then saw a fourth at the end of the hall that led through the interrogation rooms…or what was left of the hall. As he turned the corner he saw that a huge section down on the left was gone, both walls, ceiling, and floor.
David walked down to the edge of that crater, seeing a pile of debris on the level below them where the junk had settled and deposited, marking the center of the blast zone…right where he’d dropped off Agent after his run not so long ago.
Most of the other Word prisoners were still alive, with only three having been killed in the blast. Most of the rest were in holding cells on lower levels. Two Star Force personnel had been killed, and a third badly injured, when they were hit along with the prisoners. The rest of the people on the interrogation level had survived, some with injuries, some unscathed. None of the prisoners had gotten away, given that security had already pulled a head count, meaning that this attack had been for one purpose and one purpose only.
To deny them access to Agent.
That told David a lot about their operational authority and knowledge…and how little they worried about what the rest of the prisoners might know. The Word could take the hits of their minor intelligence breaches, but they couldn’t risk an Agent being compromised.
While it had proven effective, it felt like a kneejerk reaction to David, for The Word had broken their cover and made a blatant attack on a Star Force facility, and in doing so they’d revealed the fact that they were not only a criminal organization with highly capable intelligence assets, but that they also had an army to call on, and in this system no less. There hadn’t been enough time to bring in men from Sol or elsewhere, meaning they’d accomplished this through local assets only.
David didn’t know for sure what it all meant, aside from the fact that their agenda now appeared to be a great deal more ambitious than stirring up public dissent. There was no way The Word could challenge Star Force on a military front, which begged the question what else were they up to?
Not having an answer to that worried David more than a fleet of warships. Those he knew how to fight, but an unseen aggressor with an unclear target was something virtually impossible to defend against, for you never knew when or where the strike was going to land.
10
August 1, 2430
Solar System
Earth
Davis stepped out of one of Atlantis’s many elevators and walked through a sparely crowded hallway up to the rotunda that held a broken circle of workstations staffed by half a dozen people, with the pedestrian walkways splitting around either side. In the center of those workstations were two security guards, an almost unnecessary gesture given that the public no longer had access to Atlantis, but they remained there just in case, guarding the rising staircase in the center that led up to Davis’s office above.
He passed through one of the breaks in the workstation ring, offering a few ‘hellos’ and ‘good mornings’ to his executive staff of gophers who stood ready to find, or find someone else to find, whatever he needed. They handled most of the mundane, repetitive duties associated with his position atop the Star Force ‘empire,’ allowing him to focus on new things and crises as they arose.
Davis passed between the security guards and climbed the twisting staircase two steps at a time, just having come from his morning workout. He knew the Archons pulled doubles, even triple workouts per day but he was doing well off of just one, and he preferred to get to it first thing in the morning…that way all the time spent sitting at his desk served as rest rather than stagnation.
When he got to the top of the stairs he walked out into a low sunrise visible through the panoramic 360 degree window that stretched the entire length around the perimeter of the circular office. His daily routine had him getting up before sunrise and running 4 miles at sub 6:50 pace, then a quartet of 150 meter strides kept under 30 seconds. He’d been doing that workout every morning for the past year and a half and knew it was time to make an upgrade, but he hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
The pace and feel of the workout just seemed so natural to him now that it wasn’t a bother, more like stretching out his muscles every morning. He was debating between dropping down to 6:30 pace and hammering it out until he adjusted, or nipping it down to 6:45 and just eating up that little bit of improvement as he settled back into the routine. He was leaning towards the latter, but a part of him felt like hammering, so he was still undecided, which was why he was delaying making the change. Whatever he chose he was going to stick with it, so he wanted to be sure before he made the upgrade.
Davis walked over to his desk and activated the holographic displays as he set down, with the top of his clear table/desk sprouting colorful ‘objects’ that contained status reports, sales graphs, message bundles, and a host of other tools that he used to keep track of his ever growing corporation, which now spanned 73 star systems. Unfortunately they were still having to rely on couriers for communication between them, but the first test of their new interstellar transmitters was due to begin in less than a year, and if it succeeded they would be able to cut the weeks of message delay down to less than a day in most cases.
The Bsidd had finally gotten around to extending the Alliance network of communication relays out to Epsilon Eridani, giving them access to a flood of data that was then being relayed back via ship to Earth. The Archons operated out of Corneria for the most part, so military intel rightfully went there, but Davis was also keeping tabs on the war effort and had welcomed the illumination provided on the fog of war.
That said, if their own transmitter prototype performed as expected, they’d have the ability to transmit data far faster than the alliance…though at a significantly reduced range, meaning they’d have to string together a lot of relays, but they’d finally be able to keep in direct contact with each system, even all the way out to Retari where Paul and several other trailblazers were battling it out with the lizards in what he’d been told, and shown, to be nearly an even fight.
Until then he had to rely on snail mail to get his updates, of which appeared on a specific screen…one that was flashing a level 4 notice.
Davis frowned and brought it up first, seeing a report generated by members of his staff downstairs after receiving information from numerous divisions within Star Force. They’d summarized it for him while including the link to the raw data, one of which he pulled up.
It was a YouTube video tagged as ‘Star Force’s assault on Tyr.’ As he watched he saw a drone cutter hovering over the city, filmed by some camera set outside on the barren moon’s surface. Then a missile sprang up from a topside launch port and arced over, coming down on the city and blasting a hole in the armored roof that sprayed out a plume of debris and bodies across the moon’s surface as the city’s internal air pressure fueled the destructive fountain.
Davis saw other videos tagged as related, and pulled up one that showed Archons setting up and releasing chemical weapons on the civilian population in order to neutralize security checkpoints. The plumes of smoke were recognizable to Davis, for he’d already seen their use from security camera footage taken from Tyr that had been included in both Green and Red Team team’s reports.
He pulled up other videos, listening to one analyze the attacks attributing it all to a hostile takeover by Star Force in response to some dispute with Brazil. Another said it was a test bed for Star Force’s new line of chemical weapons, and they’d needed to blow a hole in the city to evacuate the excess gas when some element of the mixture proved to be too powerful.
Other videos had snippets of the internal damage…bloody corpses resulting from the gas, plasma-burned Brazilian guards who’d died fighting off the Archons, and pictures of the explosively decompressed civilian bodies found inside the city after the patch in the hull had allowed atmosphere to be returned to the depressurized areas.
The footage was gruesome, and the comments being left on the videos were a mix of disbelief and justifiable outrage.
In addition to the raw videos that were exploding across YouTube, there were also news stories cropping up elaborating on what had, and was continuing to happen on Tyr. Given that the moon was in another star system, albeit a very close one, there was no way for the public in Sol to know what was going on over there save for the tidbits passing jumpships brought back and the tales from travelers who’d witnessed the events, few that there were.
The summary that his staff had put together indicated that these videos and stories were sprouting up all over the Sol internet with no known source, and that the public was reacting harshly. The major news networks had held off on reporting on the story, demanding to get Star Force’s explanation before they went public with it, but the groundswell was already happening and anyone who had ever had a doubt about Star Force’s integrity was now going to have evidence to back up that suspicion.
Davis knew that even without having to read the theoretical implications attached to the report. There had always been a lingering anti-Star Force movement, but it had never had any real teeth after the first century. Star Force had proven itself to be reliable, honest, and above all else the good guys that intervened to stop the bad…a beacon of hope and prosperity for Humanity.
The Word had been trying to diminish that with seemingly random sabotage, but now their aim was both obvious and effective. Even as he read through the report new items were being attached to it as the story continued to grow and spread around the system through the internet and mid-tier news agencies.
The reputation he’d built up over 400 years was being hacked apart in minutes, and he knew there was going to be a segment of the population that he’d never be able to convince otherwise. They’d throw their support to the nearly dead anti-Star Force crowd, giving them new life and resources…which The Word would no doubt gain from, in the form of a social wedge, at least, that they could subtly hammer into various cracks they discovered or would create.
Davis knew this would quickly turn into a nightmare if he didn’t jump on it. Some of the public was already lost, but 400 years of consistency wouldn’t be so idly abandoned by many, and they needed to know the truth before their minds could run wild with theories.
Touching a key on the edge of his desk he brought up holographic keyboard and started tapping on the touchscreen tabletop, requesting immediate contact be made with the Brazilian ambassador. Then he sent a request to security’s intelligence division to have them break down the missile strike footage, which he knew to be phony, so they could get that out to the media as soon as possible. The Archons’ reports had indicated the hull breach was caused by an internal explosion of unknown origin, but given the camera set up outside he had no doubt The Word had killed all those people just for this photo op.
Star Force had succeeded in kicking The Word out of their sanctuary, but their enemy had turned that defeat into an advantage…and had probably been planning this ever since they’d infiltrated the moon, counting on the fact that Star Force would find them eventually.
Davis sent out many more messages, then got a response back from the Brazilian ambassador. He flipped on his office transmitter and stepped out from behind his desk, taking his place on the holopad.
“I’ve just seen the news reports,” Rodrigo said with a very displeased look on his face, “and I can assure you we had no knowledge of this.”
Davis waved off his concern with a swipe of his left hand. “I know you didn’t. This is The Word’s handiwork.”
The ambassador seemed relieved to hear that, though his scowl didn’t fade. “What can we do to assist you in battling this ridiculous propaganda?”
“It’s not all propaganda,” Davis said calmly. “Most of those images are real, I assume, just taken out of context. I intend to make a statement within the next few hours laying out what really happened, including your involvement. I’d have preferred to keep this confrontation with The Word private, but I no longer see how that’s possible. The people need to know the truth, regardless of how many supporters The Word might gain.”
“As you wish,” Rodrigo agreed. “I don’t like admitting how easily they stole Tyr away from us, but you’re correct in pointing out that we need clean air on this. Too many people have died, and now thanks to these brutes their deaths are visible to everyone. If we don’t explain who is at fault it will fall back on Brazil, and Star Force as well.”
“I’m not sure what The Word expects us to do, but I’m going to lay it all out there, including the sabotage they’ve been committing over the past years that you’re not aware of.”
Rodrigo raised an eyebrow. “May I ask?”
“Star Force doesn’t have industrial accidents,” Davis said flatly. “My people are too good for that.”
The ambassador sucked in a deep breath. “Perhaps it is best if you filled everyone in on what you know. Brazil would like to know what else they have been up to. Do you want us to issue a joint statement?”
“No, let me take the lead on this. Brazil can confirm what it likes after the fact.”
Rodrigo nodded. “I’ll get things moving on this end.”
Davis nodded and cut the transmission by stepping off the pad. The carpet resealed behind him as he headed back to his desk, but he didn’t sit down. He typed out one last message then headed for the stairs at a jog, wanting to get out ahead of this social revolution as much as he could.
“This looks like a movie to me,” Victor Anderson told his son as he watched one of the viral YouTube videos on a datapad, seeing the cloud of blue smoke billowing out from the canister, obscuring the Archons who’d set it off along with everything else a few seconds later as it reached the camera.
“No way, Dad. This stuff is everywhere. They even blew a hole in the city and vented the atmosphere. You can see the bodies coming out.”
“Why would Star Force do that?” Victor argued.
“I don’t know, but they did. It’s right here!”
“Don’t believe everything you see.”
He heard a noise from the kitchen and suddenly his wife walked into the living room where they were having their little family discussion. “Have you seen the news?”
“I’m showing it to him…he doesn’t believe it.”
“They killed over 100,000 people,” she said earnestly. “I really think it’s time you got a new job.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Victor said, trying to quell the rising tensions despite the fact that he was also concerned. “What does Star Force have to gain from attacking Brazil? More likely this is just some giant hoax to drum up YouTube views.”
“It’s on the regular news channels too,” his wife said, grabbing the remote and turning the vid screen on. When she did a press conference was being shown, with Davis center stage.
Victor frowned, realizing this had to be a lot more serious than he’d given his son credit for if the big man himself was addressing it.
“…which was when I sent an Archon team in to investigate the situation, probe the criminal element, and remove it from Tyr, returning the moon to Brazilian possession.”
“The Archons confirmed that the criminal organization responsible for the takeover was a familiar one. They call themselves The Word, though we know very little about them. Star Force has been hunting them down for over a decade in response to a number of sabotage attempts and successes against our infrastructure. Their personnel are very elusive, and have no qualms with committing suicide to avoid capture. The Archons managed to take several of them alive on Tyr, and we’re still in the process of interrogating them, though their organizational structure appears to be cellular, with each operative only knowing what is necessary for their mission. Thus we are having a difficult time assessing their full capabilities.”
“The takeover of Tyr was a far bolder step that we’d expected of them, but they surpassed it when they began slaughtering civilians dressed in Archon armor costumes. A lot of you have already seen those vids. They’re little more than actors engaging in real manslaughter. All our troops sent into Tyr were equipped with nonlethal weapons. We didn’t know who was a member of The Word and who was a loyal Brazilian security officer following orders from superiors he thought were legitimate.”
“We stunned and captured the local Brazilians, all the while a replacement force was being sent from Mars to take control of the moon. They didn’t know any more than we did who had been compromised or not, so they sent in an entirely new administration and security force, then began to sort through the local personnel, determining who they could trust and who they could not.”
“While Star Force was fighting and stunning the local population, Word operatives used the chaos to their advantage, staging raids dressed as my people and recording them to create this propaganda. To my current knowledge the deaths you are seeing on those vids are real, but the identity of the attackers has been faked.”
“The missile strike on the city never happened. Star Force had a warship on hand to prevent any ships from leaving. We wanted to contain The Word to the city rather than allow some of them to escape. The explosion that occurred originated from the interior, probably also The Word’s doing, given that the camera that recorded the explosion was neither Star Force nor Brazilian in origin. We believe it was placed there before the assault, along with explosives in the emergency shelter, so they could record their deaths and offer them up to the public as proof of Star Force’s imagined misdeeds.”
“Both Star Force and Brazil wanted to root out this criminal organization quietly, but given their recent wave of propaganda that is no longer an option. But whereas we’ve been keeping quiet in order to hunt down the leads we’ve had, so too has The Word kept knowledge of itself quiet, and that ends today. Following this broadcast I am releasing files of the varying crimes The Word has committed, ranging from thefts, to kidnappings, to murders…bank fraud, smuggling of contraband, copyright violations. You’ll get the full list, but be aware that these are only the activities that we’ve discovered, and there are probably far more that we have not.”
“This is the enemy we face. They know they cannot stand up to us militarily or economically, so they are trying to strike at us through other means. Whether or not you will hear from them now that I’ve outed them, I do not know. Regardless, we are making progress in hunting them down and will continue to do so, but I will tell you this…as a few of you already have heard by word of mouth. Shortly after the reclamation of Tyr, there was an assault on a Star Force city on nearby Glasir.”
“That attack was accomplished by The Word’s private army. We do not know how large it is, or where they are based, but they attacked one of our spaceports in full combat gear and were quickly subdued. We have them now as prisoners, but while their attack seemed to be futile, it was in fact a ruse to pull security away from the area where we were holding The Word prisoners from Tyr, including one of their leaders we managed to capture.”
Davis hesitated, and you could see the fire in his eyes. “Six men dressed as civilians attacked the holding area and fought their way in to where the prisoners were being held. Once they found their leader, they detonated an explosive they were carrying, killing him so that we could not gleam any further secrets from The Word.”
“The other 5 were killed before they could detonate themselves…and yes, we did lose several Star Force personnel in both the attack and the explosion.”
“So there you have it…the truth. I know many of you will believe what you want to believe, and honestly I don’t care about you. I’m standing here explaining this to the rest of you so that you will have the truth available to you in this war of lies The Word is waging. These men are evil, and will do whatever they deem necessary to accomplish their agenda, and what that is we still don’t fully know. They are secretive, intelligent, amoral, and dangerous. They thrive on corruption and deceit, which is why it is important that you know the truth.”
“I will say that The Word isn’t the only threat out there, and there are many that Star Force deals with without you ever knowing about it. We don’t do this to hide it from you, but because you don’t need to know. This isn’t a game or entertainment or a hobby. This is real people’s lives being affected by evil men, and Star Force exists to hunt them down and stop them…not to record it in vids to play for the rest of you on the news.”
“I would have preferred to have dealt with The Word quietly, but they have begun to wage a different kind of war. They strike at us with lies…thus we strike back with the truth.”
On that seemingly abrupt end Davis stepped out of camera, leaving only the Pacific ocean backdrop as seen from a tower in Atlantis in place for a few seconds, then the news anchors reappeared and began to weigh in on the revelations.
“Damn,” Victor whispered.
“Cover up,” his son declared instantly.
The father pointed a stern finger at his son. “You shut your mouth. Sean Davis is the most trustworthy person on this planet. If he says Star Force didn’t do this, then that’s the truth.”
“Whatever,” his son said walking him off.
“I don’t know what to think,” his wife said, sitting down next to him as they continued to watch the newsfeeds, which were just now being updated with the data the Director had promised would follow.
Victor glared at her. “Who are you willing to trust more, a corporation with a track record 400 years long or some anonymous poster on YouTube?”
“If Star Force isn’t responsible, how could they have let this happen?” she countered.
Victor turned away from her gaze, looking back at the vid screen. “Davis said this Word was dangerous.”
“It’s Star Force,” she countered. “They can defend us against aliens, but not some tiny criminal organization?”
“Who managed to take over an entire moon without anyone noticing.”
“That’s just my point!”
“It wasn’t a Star Force moon,” Victor said, huffing. “If the damn Brazilians can’t hang onto their own territory that’s not Star Force’s fault!”
She raised her right hand, forestalling any other comments. “I’m not trying to fight, I just don’t know what to believe right now.”
“Star Force wouldn’t do this.”
“I wish I could be sure of that.”
Victor didn’t say anything after that, nor did his wife. They just sat watching the list of alleged Word crimes being displayed and commented upon by the news anchors.
Two weeks later the first public broadcast from The Word broke its way onto the internet, with an unremarkable man laying out their mandate to return Humanity to its true purpose while defending it against outside threats. The man, who talked very much like an average everyday citizen, pointed out that they did not want to destroy Star Force, but that its leaders had lost their way and must be replaced, for the organization itself was key to Humanity’s survival and prosperity…and that they were exposing the corruption and murderous vein within the mega corporation so that the rest of society could cleanse it.
From that day on the confrontation between Star Force and The Word would be a public one, with the latter gaining followers by the droves, managing to unite the anti-Star Force sentiment in a way no nation had succeeded in doing before and creating a true and almost instantaneous split within Human society.
The sides had been laid out, and every nation, corporation, and person was rushing to pick one or another, drawing in old vendettas to the new social battlefield and escalating the tension far more than The Word could ever have done on its own.
-----
1
December 2, 2430
Lejat System
Endor
“Command says we have contacts heading our way,” Reggie said in a whisper inside the surface blind that concealed the entry point to the Canderian base.
“Details?” Vitor asked.
“No transports this time. The lizards sent a battle fleet to check up on their missing ships. We’ve got a cruiser incoming escorting a hoard of kirbies.”
“Damn,” Vitor said, his eyes scanning the forest outside through a slit of a one-way window. “What are our orders?” he asked the Evocati.
“Others will handle the big boys. We jump the kirbies same as before.”
“And hope the cruiser doesn’t blast our asses to oblivion in the process?”
“Pretty much,” Reggie said as a few more Canderians in green camo armor, complete with the force field faceplates they preferred over the Archon/Knights’ full helmets…or at least on a planet like this, with breathable atmosphere and plenty of trees for their enemy to hide behind, which was why they liked their ears exposed so they could clearly hear every little creak and snap nearby.
“Have the Ninkis been alerted?”
“I assume so,” Reggie said as he walked to the door that was covered only in a concealment hologram that he couldn’t see out of, nor could anyone see in through. He clicked on his headset comm. “Check in.”
Vitor clicked his own comm, sending a signal out to his Evocati that registered his readiness on his HUD. Once all 42 members of his Evocaton showed up Reggie led them outside into the evergreen forest as they headed away from their concealed, subsurface base towards the Ninkari village/city off to the southwest.
None of the Canderians talked along the way, not only because they needed all the breath they had for running through the underbrush that continually tried to slow them down with a mixture of vines, leaves, and thorns that dragged on their armor, but because they knew better than to make any extra noise than necessary, given that their voices would carry out of their partial helmets, as opposed to the Star Force variety that was fully concealed.
The Canderians ran at just shy of a sprint across ground that held no trails…for they could lead back to their base. The trailblazers’ orders had been specific: Protect the primitive Ninkari population of the planet, and do so without drawing further lizard attention here.
That was a new exercise for the military civilization, for they lived out in the openness of space and fought in a similar manner…though as the years passed they were getting better and better at operating on planets, and in this case, hiding on one.
Or rather beneath it. Everywhere the Ninkari had a hut city there was a Canderian base nearby so that they could react quickly when the lizards arrived. They’d been on the planet a quarter of a century, and in that time the lizards had sent ships to harvest the natives 8 times, each of which was thwarted by Canderous. Apparently they’d finally got tired of sending off ships that never returned, and now they had come in force to see what had been happening to them.
It wasn’t the first time they’d investigated. Many times the lizards had sent a jumpship with cruisers attached in system to find their missing ships…and found nothing. No ships insystem, lizard or otherwise. No debris from where they might have been destroyed, in orbit or on the surface. Canderous had been good about leaving no traces and had apparently dumbfounded the lizards. Now they had sent a fleet to investigate and harvest at the same time, meaning they weren’t going to be able to operate with the same methods.
But that wasn’t Reggie’s concern. What happened upstairs wasn’t his department. His was to keep the lizards from picking up any of the Ninkari from the city over the small ridge ahead of them, while other Canderian units were doing the same elsewhere. Trick of it was, there were over 120 million Ninkari on the planet, thanks largely to the fact that Canderous hadn’t let any of them be harvested. They reproduced quickly, and were expanding so fast that Star Force had to help them plan out their settlements to avoid starvation.
The ‘Ninkies,’ as they’d come to be called, were semi-intelligent, compared to Humans anyway, and Star Force had assigned a team of liaisons to the planet that had managed to construct a simple language they could use to communicate with each other, given their native language was a series of barks and chirps that Humans couldn’t well reciprocate, and on top of that it was a muddled mess of syntax. The new language was much more efficient, and gave the Humans a way of communicating with the Ninkari, who’d come to see them as both guardians and teachers.
Thanks to that relationship being established, shelters had been dug underneath the Ninkari cities, giving at least some of them a safe zone to run to when/if the lizards came back. Reggie appreciated that, for the less of them out in the open the better. Thankfully the lizards wanted to take them alive, or they could just have blasted away at their huts from the air rather than landing collectors on the ground and going after them with tranquilizers and nets.
On foot Reggie knew it’d take them 11 minutes to get to the edge of the village, given the number of times they’d practiced making the overland trek, but finding exactly where the lizards were going to set down would be a matter of luck, though he knew they preferred wide open landing zones and this city was nestled up into the thick forest, leaving only a handful of spots he hoped they’d go to…otherwise they might get to the Ninkies before Canderous did.
The Canderians had debated linking an underground tunnel with the village and using it to quickly get there when needed, but they wanted their base to not be connected in a way that the lizards might find it, else they could draw a military response that would further endanger the locals. They had to be ghosts in this, and to do that they had to keep out of the village until needed, come in, hit, and disappear before anyone could check up on what was going on.
Inside his helmet’s HUD, which was projected via hologram just inside the shield that covered his face, Reggie got updated tracking data from the passive sensor stations set all across Endor’s surface. They weren’t as good as active stations that sent out a sensor beam, but they still provided them a heads up via the disturbance in the atmospheric reentry as well as visual spotting. Other than that the lizard tech was hard to pick up on sensors anyway, given their signal absorbing armor plating.
Reggie saw that there were dozens of signals heading towards their village, all of which he assumed were kirbies. Elsewhere there were other contacts, visible on his battlemap when he zoomed out, heading for other settlements, meaning there were hundreds coming down from orbit to this region of the planet…and who knew how many more elsewhere, making this the largest harvesting attempt to date, giving his Evocaton more targets to deal with than he’d expected.
But this is what they’d trained for and he was eager to take it to the lizards, so as his six Triarill came over the crest of the low ridge and the mass of wood huts came into view, obscured by some tall tree clumps but otherwise out in the open and vulnerable to attack, the Canderian accelerated his pace on the downhill as he issued deployment orders, tagging various locations within the village on his battlemap via waypoints.
The six Triarill that made up his Evocaton split, with one staying with him and heading for the largest open area available, which was just this side of the village center. The other Triarill, each comprised of 6 Munifex and one Triarii, diverged slightly as the line of soldiers broke apart as they listened for the sound of engines that they knew would be approaching soon.
Reggie hit the edge of the village first with the outlying huts, some of which were multiple stories tall, already having been evacuated. It wasn’t until his command Triarill was a quarter mile inside the perimeter did he come across any of the short, bristly Ninkies, passing them by as they huddled up together inside one of the larger huts, with one poking its narrow head out the wood slat door. The open air windows were also visible with the Ninkies’ green eyes that seemed to glow from the reflected sunlight.
As per Canderous’s previous instructions, the Ninkies were clearing the streets, which were little more than dirt paths winding in between various huts and trees, offering a varied battlefield with no linear geography. That favored close range combat, which the Canderians liked, but it also made it difficult to navigate to the hot spots and respond in a timely manner, giving the nature of the zigzaggy course one would have to run.
When Reggie passed one of the taller huts he pointed a finger towards it and one of his men veered off, going inside and climbing up to the top to act as a spotter/sniper. Rather than camping out in the structure itself, the Munifex climbed out onto the roof and jumped to the tree branches a meter away, then crawled up further into the pine-like needles, obscuring himself near the trunk and picking out a good viewing spot of the clearing that Reggie was headed to with the others.
They got there a couple of minutes before the first of the kirbies arrived, hearing their telltale hum of the lizards’ anti-grav engines. It wasn’t loud, but it did have a different pitch than Star Force tech, which was usually far more quiet. In truth the anti-grav propulsion was silent, but the cooling systems that kept the components from overloading and melting made the noise, and the larger the pull the more cooling was required.
The lizards liked using sensor-stealthed ships, but they didn’t care about noise levels at close range, so when the kirbies came overhead the Canderians could feel the hum in their bones, even though none had yet set down. A few hand signals from Reggie and his Triarill split up, with him taking position behind a tree on the edge of the clearing that was made up of pounded dirt around a water well the Ninkies had dug. It was no longer functional, given that Star Force had taught them how to make better ones that were indoors, but they’d asked the Ninkari to leave it in place so as to draw the lizards in…which it now was.
Three kirbies from the 10+ that flew overhead dropped down to make use of the exposed dirt, landing in a triangle around the well and hovering a meter off the ground as they opened their side hatches.
Suddenly a rocket zipped across the clearing and into the side of the nearest kirby, detonating within and killing most of the lizard troops waiting to come out. That detonation triggered a hail of plasma lances from around the perimeter as all 7 Canderians shot every scaled head that came into view.
Reggie nailed one in its protective vest, having hit low. That knocked it back into the hold, but it was shoved out again by those behind and it caught its balance upon landing, then scurried off to the side as a sniper shot from a lachar rifle nailed it in the head, coming down from a high angle. The Evocati held his position near the tree, lighting up the lizards pouring out with accurate plasma blasts as another two Canderians overlapped their fire with his own, mowing down all but six of the lizards that got free and scattered around behind or under the kirbies, giving them some cover.
Without him even having to order it one of the other two nearby Canderians sprinted out to the kirby and hopped up into the hold, disappearing from sight as he headed for the cockpit, intent on taking out the pilots. Reggie stayed put and dropped to the ground, holding his plasma rifle a couple of inches above the dirt and firing underneath the kirby at the lizards’ legs behind it.
He nailed three of the appendages, but one of the creepy crawlers took cover behind the well where he couldn’t target. Reggie scanned the area underneath the other two kirbies, finding another set of legs to shoot at, despite the further range…then one of the kirbies started climbing out of the clearing, attempting to run away while the other two were still on the ground.
Two rockets leapt out from different locations, one of which splattered shrapnel against the kirby’s shields. The second one breached the energy barrier and scarred the hull, but didn’t do much damage. As the cargo bay door resealed more rockets came up from the pair, blasting into the side and causing the kirby to keel over, coming back down into the side of the clearing and nosing into a hut where it grounded itself.
Another rocket followed, hitting the aft of the kirby and knocking out what anti-grav it had left, bringing the entire blocky ship crashing down to the dirt…whereupon one of the intact plasma cannons rotated around and started taking pot shots at the Canderians.
That reprisal didn’t last long, for a hail of plasma lances targeted the now shieldless battery and slagged the weapon, followed by the others that were visible on the half buried ship, though none of them returned fire, having had either their power feeds or control lines severed from the rocket damage.
The other two kirbies never fired a shot, having been boarded almost immediately upon landing. With their pilots dead they floated in place while the Canderians hunted down the last of the lizards outside, then signaled the all clear to Reggie.
“Open the door on the downed kirby,” he ordered, followed by another pair of rockets being launched into the side of the already damaged ship. After the smoke settled he could see a hole in the side, leading to the interior hold, which he hand signaled towards.
Two of his Munifex ran forward and hopped inside, going after the lizard pilots. A few moments later he got a sitrep over his comm.
“Lizards are down, one casualty. Ona took a couple hits to the chest on entry.”
“Is she fighting capable?” Reggie asked.
“Burns only,” the Canderian responded as the pair climbed back out the hole into the sunlight. As they did he could see the scorch marks on one of them, but as far as movement was concerned Ona didn’t seem too disabled.
“Retake positions around the perimeter. These might not be the last heading our way,” Reggie ordered as he ducked back behind the tree and in front of a hut, giving him a partially concealed position from where he could check up on the other Triarill via his battlemap and comm. When he did he noticed something much larger on approach.
“Everyone get under cover. We’ve got a cruiser nearby. Don’t let them see you.”
8 klicks away from the village, which held over 100,000 of the small Ninkari, a small patch of dirt in between the thick evergreen trees was covered in a thin layer of grass and weeds, soaking up the sunlight as a lizard cruiser floated its way over the forest, watching the kirbies as they spread out to take their living plunder. When the first signs of resistance sprouted the cruiser altered course, heading towards the signs of trouble while deploying fighters.
As it did that patch of grass suddenly took flight, ripping out from the ground around it as a concealed Canderian assault tower rose up above the treetops, powering up its weapons and defense shields as it targeted the enemy cruiser some 3 kilometers away, well within its firing range.
A cleansing beam reached out across the relatively short gap and punched straight through the lizards’ shields, tearing into the hull and drawing an almost immediate response from the wisps in the air. The lizard fighters wheeled about and headed for the tower as the cruiser slowly did the same, returning plasma fire as it came about that impacted and exploded the trees surrounding the turret, with only small pieces of the green fire getting through to the shields, which rebuffed them easily.
As the plasma continued to flow from the cruiser the forest around the tower was set afire, with the gap between the two targets clearing out and giving the lizards a better shot at the spindly Human construct. When the fighters got close they lit up the shields with tiny specs of green, all the while the anti-air defenses powered up and began firing rapid lachar blasts back at them from multiple cupolas.
The wisps dropped from the air like flies as the cleansing beam continued to cut into the lizard cruiser, then the turret’s plasma cannons came online as a shield generator on the cruiser was hit and a portion of its hull was exposed. Two blue orbs shot out, blasting into the hull plates and making like shrapnel bombs while the lizards’ deluge of plasma blasts hadn’t yet penetrated the turret’s shields.
The exchange went on for another 20 seconds before the cruiser pulled up and accelerated away from the tower, heading almost straight up as it tilted to give the aerodynamics a better edge on the atmosphere, getting it out of plasma range first, while still taking cleansing beam strikes well after it shrank to a tiny dot in the sky.
Elsewhere around the planet identical towers were popping up and scaring off other cruisers while the Canderian ground troops were making quick work of the kirbies via ambushes and heavy weapons. Those few that got back into the sky were taken down by deployed towers, while a scattering of others were pursued and eliminated by drone starfighters launched from hidden bays and piloted by Canderians safely tucked away beneath the surface.
Every kirby formation that came to ground was eliminated, and every cruiser that came within range was turned back damaged. Once the enemies were gone the turrets retracted back into the ground, though the dirt wasn’t replaced over top of them, figuring the lizards already had their positions tagged anyway. Some of the kirby formations that had further to go to get to their targets were recalled, fleeing back up to orbit or to nearby cruisers to dock upon.
Altogether the lizards’ harvesting attempt was thoroughly and bluntly blocked, with the lizards in the warfleet overhead beginning to plan out new, more robust assaults on the towers while landing troops outside the villages so they could hunt down the ambushers who they thought were Human, though very few reports had made it back from the teams on the ground.
As the cruisers and kirbies were on their way back up to orbit and making runs to dock with the pair of jumpships and the fleet of cruisers they’d deployed, more contacts began arriving on an unusual jumpline, not coming from the star but from another planet in the system and putting them about an 1/8th of an orbital arc away from the lizard fleet.
The lizards weren’t going to get the chance to plan and launch an assault of the planet, for the Humans had their own warfleet in system, and it was heading straight towards them.
2
“Sensor contact made, Captain. Two lizard Carrier-class jumpships, 52 cruisers, and six jump-capable transports with kirbies enroute.”
“Very well,” Captain Jamke said, studying the battle hologram on the bridge as enemy data was being updated both visually as well as verbally. “Deploy the fleet. Target the cruisers, and give me attack lances headed for the jumpships and transports. I don’t think they’ll stay long, but just in case I want ships in position.”
“Aye, Captain,” the first officer said, relaying the appropriate orders in more detail.
The single Warship-class Star Force jumpship began disgorging its drone warships as it accelerated through as low of an orbit as it could, trying to close with the lizard fleet before it had a chance to bug out. That said, the odds were relatively even, and keeping ships contained in orbit was almost impossible, so if the lizards wanted to leave there was little to keep them from making a micro-jump out of planetary orbit…save for the chance to fight the Humans.
As the approaching fleet began braking maneuvers using a pair of repulses strung out between Endor and one its moons to get the right vector, the lizard jumpships zipped off, jumping out from the planet and quickly leaving sensor range. The cruisers, however, stayed behind setting themselves to receive the Star Force fleet while the transports ducked down to a slightly lower orbit to pick up what kirbies had survived the surface ambush.
Jamke didn’t know if the cruisers were buying them time or if they wanted to fight it out, but either way he intended to do them some damage. With the Meteor hanging back and remotely controlling the attack fleet made up of a quartet of heavy cruisers on down through a mix of cruisers, destroyers, frigates, corvettes, and cutters, the Captain watched as the leading ships of both formations crisscrossed and began exchanging fire…the lizards with their potent green plasma and the blocky Star Force ships with their mixed assortment of weapons ranging from missiles to maulers.
Each ship potentially had a different layout, given that they were partially modular, and Jamke had configured his fleet for close up combat, using a large number of the new mauler mods that gave his ships shield disrupting capability, in that the weapons severely messed with the lizards’ shields on impact, allowing them to punch through far quicker than normal and letting even his smallest ships inflict hull damage before the lizards could take them out.
As per his standard alignment, he had his warships clustered up into trios that picked on individual lizard targets. Whether it be a destroyer and two cutters, or a threesome of corvettes, each little battlegroup worked together to maximize its collective weapons package, hitting the lizard cruisers hard as the fleets continued to close with one another and start the main melee.
Two of those battlegroups sidestepped the heaviest fighting and went lower in orbit, headed for the transports. One of the enemy cargo ships jumped out immediately, but the others remained, still picking up kirbies coming back from the surface. Those began taking long range lachar hits, which also penetrated their shields, putting small pot marks in their hull armor…which quickly started to add up, forcing another to jump prematurely leaving some 6 kirbies behind as it made an emergency micro-jump away from the planet. The line it took lead nowhere, meaning it was going to have to do some serious navigating to find the star or another planet to land on before drifting off into interstellar space.
But the tradeoff was that Star Force would be hard pressed to follow them out, and Jamke didn’t intend to. He wanted to do what damage he could and run them out of planetary orbit, which happened some 10 minutes later when the transports decided they’d picked up as many kirbies as they could before turning away and jumping out of sensor range.
As soon as that happened the cruisers, who’d been trimmed down from 52 to 39, also made micro-jumps away from the planet, but with much slower acceleration given that they didn’t have the massive drive cores that jumpships carried. Still, it was enough to get them away from the Human fleet, whose continually developing weapons and shield tech was beginning to outclass theirs.
Suddenly low orbit was clear, save for the remaining kirbies that didn’t really have anywhere to go. Some accelerated on their tiny gravity drives and tried to leave the planet the same way the other ships did. A few made it past the Star Force fleet, though most were gunned down by the ships’ lachars, leaving a handful of kirbies heading back down to the planet to try and escape the orbital guns.
“Get me course plots on those outgoing kirbies and potential intercepts…and a line to Canderous,” Jamke ordered, with is crew carrying out his last order in a matter of seconds, generating a hologram of a Legat just off his bridge command chair.
“The enemy fleet has been run off, but there are a few kirbies returning to the surface,” the Captain explained without preamble.
The Legat nodded. “We’ll take care of them, one way or another. Can you remain in orbit for an active sensor trace?”
“As long as you need,” Jamke offered, knowing that most of the Canderian sensor outposts were passive, so as not to give away their locations. “We’ll be cleaning up ship debris for a few hours at least.”
“Will you call in the salvage ships? I’d rather not send out that strong of a signal, given that there are still enemy ships in the system.”
“Next item on my list,” Jamke said, glancing at his comm officer, who nodded his understanding of the indirect order.
“As far as I know, none of the kirbies that got away contained any Ninkari, so do not concern yourself with capturing them.”
“I wasn’t,” the Captain admitted. “Most of them hadn’t even made it to the surface.”
The Legat seemed to bristle at that, but he didn’t voice his feelings concerning the Captain’s sloppiness. If one of the kirbies had taken a Ninkari onboard and was then destroyed, that would have been a mission failure…one that could easily be avoided by the Canderians tagging the ship with a ‘no kill’ marker. They hadn’t needed to, but the Captain’s explanation made him wonder if he would have even double checked before blowing them all away.
“We will need at least one transport on the surface. Two or three if you can spare them.”
“You’ll get at least 2. Surface cleanup takes priority.”
“Thank you. What are your plans concerning the surviving lizard ships?”
“We’re not taking their jumpships unless they make a mistake, and I don’t think they’ll be coming back without a larger fleet, which they’ll probably be needing over Atlantica.”
“Back to hide and wait then?”
“Seems so. We’ll stay close for a week or so, just in case they have other plans.”
The Legat nodded and ended the commlink.
“Where are we with those traces?” Jamke asked, standing up from his command chair and taking a step up towards the main hologram that was detailing the slice of orbit that they were currently located in. None of his officers answered him, but the holo did zoom out with 9 lines indicating where the kirbies were making their slow jumps out from. Only now were they actually approaching the speed of the ship’s sensors and dropping off their active scans, but due to the ballistic nature of space travel between gravity wells they had a good idea where they would be heading in the near future.
The lines on the holo connected at their origin with dotted lines indicating the quickest intercept routes to get to those jumplines with the closest of the Meteor’s drone warships. By his visual inspection, Jamke had enough cutters and corvettes operational to pursue all of them.
“Go after them, boomerang protocol,” he ordered.
Situated within the widely spaced fleet and now drifting debris field from the battle, a Star Force cutter received new orders, using both its differential gravity drive to push off the nearby moons and planet to reverse its orbit course, along with convention thrust engines to diminish the time to target as the smallest of the rectangular warships headed for one of the jumplines. After six minutes of heavy acceleration it coasted for another 2, then likewise decelerated until it came to a stop on the exact jumpline, hovering over the planet below on its gravity drive now that it no longer had any orbital speed.
Ramping up the repulsive field while obscuring the pushes from the nearby moons, distant planets, and star, it launched up the jumpline, accelerating in a fluid motion that quickly shrank it to a dot that was traveling well faster than the kirbies could manage, but not so fast that it would overshoot.
Soon the cutter passed out of communications range with the Meteor, given that it was traveling faster than the control signals, meaning that it now was operating on preprogrammed instructions. First among those was to continue up the jumpline with active sensors scanning ahead until it found the target or a certain amount of distance/time expired.
The kirby showed up as a hazy signal at first, due to the signal lag and range, but it was enough for the computer onboard the cutter to start plotting an intercept course, reaching out to the star and planets to give it some small amount of deceleration by combining those various trajectories and playing them off at one another. It didn’t offer a lot of thrust potential, but it did save precious conventional fuel, as well as allowing for course corrections where ships without differential drives were forced to sit through a coast phase.
The lizards had differential drives, which was how they maneuvered around in atmosphere without having to expend a great deal of conventional thrust, meaning the kirby had the ability to move off its jumpline slightly if it wanted, though it hadn’t. Once the cutter made contact and got it in a sensor lock it was only a matter of time before the intercept occurred, given the larger ship’s more powerful engines and navigational capability.
Many more minutes passed until the cutter closed within weapons range, at which point the kirby did try and alter course, pushing itself to the side and hoping the cutter would pass it by, but the computer program recognized the altered trajectory and corrected itself, staying on the kirby’s tail as the enemy contact accelerated, pushing forward and gaining a bit of ground on the cutter before it again corrected and started to eat up the gap.
Once within a predetermined range the drone began sniping with its lachars, stitching the kirby with immediate hull breaches, given the size of the weapons on the warship. The kirby’s thrusting ended almost instantly, allowing the cutter to close even further and douse the chewed up hull in plasma, burning the corpse in a delude of blue fire in successive blasts that was clearly overkill, but the computer didn’t recognize that, for it was only following its programming.
It continued to batter the remains until the sensor signature diminished to rubble, which then triggered the computer to tag the target as ‘dead,’ at which point the boomerang programming kicked in and the navigational computer took note of the positions of the planets and star, then started pushing off their weak gravity wells to move it into a trajectory that would lead it to one of them, in this case the 3rd planet in the system.
It took it some 29 hours to reach its destination, upon which it easily and quickly braked against the gravity well and settled into an orbit that would bring it around on the jumpline back to Endor. That jump took all of 38 minutes, at which time it returned to the short range control signals from the Meteor once the warship orbited its way around the curve of the planet…or more accurately, one of the Canderian transports orbited around the edge of the planet and relayed the straight line signals to the drone, acting in lieu of a Star Force communications grid that typically would have had orbital or surface installations to relay the signal around the sphere.
A pilot onboard the warship took the drone back under direct control and flew it into the ship’s external carrier bay, sliding it up into an empty slot along with most of the others. Those missing were either on patrol alongside the gigantic craft or had been damaged/destroyed during the battle.
The damaged ones still capable of flight had been sent off while those not capable of movement had been towed back to the Meteor, which would deliver them in person to the repair yard some 9 days later. At the moment four Canderian transports were harvesting the battle debris from the lizard cruisers, already having gotten to the Star Force debris first.
With it being a full day past the battle, the cleanup of the dead kirbies on the planet’s surface had already been completed, with the battle scars in the Ninkari villages being patched over with new construction, tilled soil, and new seedlings where appropriate. The hidden Canderian turrets were also being resodded, so as to take root as soon as possible to conceal their locations, though it would take time for new trees to replace the burnt ones. The grassy clearings would have to suffice in the meantime, but with each day that passed the concealment would literally ‘grow’ more effective.
After Jamke’s fleet finished watching over the transports as they cut and picked up battle debris, leaving orbit clean of any trace of either lizard or Human presence, he took his escorts back inside the jumpship and made a micro-jump out to the 15th planet in the system, which was only a short hop away from Endor. There the Meteor stayed, so as to be in close proximity should the Canderians call for support again.
The Captain lingered there for more than a week before making another micro-jump out to the 73rd planet in the system, one of the furthest away from the star on the very edge of the system. The Meteor braked against its small gravity well then redirected towards its even smaller moon that was about a tenth the mass of Luna…though that mass had been reduced greatly, requiring a specially built gravity drive to nudge it back into a stable orbit, for it had started to spiral out from the planet a bit as the Canderians had gradually hollowed it out to build their concealed seda inside.
It was the largest built to date, surrounded by a rocky exterior miles thick that made for better armor than anything Star Force had produced to date. It was so large, in fact, that they had included an internal shipyard where they could both build new ships, including the salvage transports they used to clean up the lizards’ mess whenever they sent ships into the system, and repair the damaged ones, both those drones already having traveled to the moon under their own power and those the Meteor was now releasing from its grasp to be towed inside.
The jumpship had repair facilities onboard that could rebuild the drones if necessary, but a lot of that construction had to happen on the ship’s exterior rather than in a full slip cradle. Bringing them to the seda would yield both faster repairs and more efficient ones, which was why the Meteor was making a stop at the moon. Otherwise it normally camped out around random planets in the outer zone of the system, bouncing around so as to keep out of sight of the lizards as it waited for recall.
Once it offloaded its wounded ships it maneuvered back over to the planet then jumped out, not wanting to draw attention to the secret seda, who had opened its massive rock-covered bay doors over the space of 6 hours to allow the damaged ships inside, followed by another 6 hours reclosing them…not because they lacked the necessary torsion power, but because they were moving a rocky exterior miles thick as the doors pushed out then flowered open, reclosing the same way to maintain the seda’s camouflage.
From the seda other ships would come and go, servicing the Canderian bases on Endor with supplies and rotating field deployments, all of which was designed to keep the system clean of Human presence so as not to draw the lizards here with a target to hit, for their mission wasn’t their destruction, but the defense of the Ninkari. The trailblazers had been convinced that a stealth defense could be successful and evacuation of the Ninkari to another planet would not be necessary, and if their efforts on Atlantica bore fruit, the lizards would probably be so busy fighting there or at Namek to not pay much attention to the Ninkari…or barring that, not be able to produce a large enough fleet to outmatch both the Meteor and the Canderian bases on the surface.
If the worst case scenario came to pass, a courier ship docked within the seda would be dispatched to whistle up reinforcements, after which the Ninkari could be relocated, but so far the plan was holding to form and Star Force intended to keep it that way and the Ninkari on the world the lizards had deposited them on, if for no other reason than to thumb their nose at them and their barbaric food supply chain.
That was something the Canderians could appreciate, and they reveled in their responsibility in the system, as well as their zero failure record to date.
3
February 23, 2432
Karmena System
Epipo
Sara watched from the bridge of the Hawkeye as the drone warships in her fleet took out the remains of the lizard defense fleet and then began pounding the orbital infrastructure around the planet. It was the less developed of the two inhabited planets in the system, and the location where she’d chosen to stage her raid. Her fleet of 5 warships had easily overwhelmed the planetary defenses, then reinforcements from nearby Iradon jumped in as she’d expected.
That battle had been more lengthy, but the outcome had never been in doubt. While both planets were heavily encroached with lizard bases/cities, their naval defenses were limited compared to the fleet she’d brought with her. Rather than get coy, the lizards had thrown everything they had at the Human fleet up front, leaving her forces with little now to do other than blow up their orbital infrastructure, including a handful of battle stations that her cleansing beam-equipped warships were sniping apart from range.
She didn’t like the slaughter, but time and again the lizards had refused to surrender, and now was no exception. The trailblazer had sent out the customary offer, and as usual there was no response…not from the lizard commanders, the planet below, or any of the ships or stations in orbit. The lizards were determined to either dominate or die, with surrender not being an option on the table. Sara kept waiting for the time when one of them would make another call, but so far neither she nor any other Archon had encountered an independently thinking lizard, making it even more apparent that they were bred for purpose, with any singular concerns, such as staying alive, having been hardwired out of their biology, or more probably suppressed.
No matter what genetic engineering had taken place, each of them was still a person with at least the option of making choices. If they didn’t exercise that option that too was their choice, but Sara wasn’t going to get in the habit of assuming every lizard was a bloodthirsty blockhead, though today wasn’t showing any evidence to the contrary.
While she didn’t like slaughtering them, she wasn’t stupid enough to try and send troops over to capture the lizards crewing the stations in orbit around the planet. That would be putting her people in unnecessary risk. To date no lizard had willingly accepted imprisonment, and those that had been compelled had tried to kill themselves at every turn, either through kamikaze attacks on their jailers or through self-mutilation. When that option had been taken away from them, in the form of claw covers that latched onto their wrists like cuffs, they tried to starve themselves to death.
There were still some alive, last Sara knew, having to be fed by IV as some of the trailblazers worked on trying to communicate with them. They could speak the language, but the lizards were mostly unresponsive. Greg had reported a few limited breakthroughs, but none to the point where they could trust them not to kill themselves.
Given that situation, the taking of lizard prisoners by force had pretty much been taken off the table, though the voluntary offers were still par for the course.
As she watched another of their communications stations bite the dust in a wash of blue plasma, Sara glanced over at the battlemap looking for surface activity. There were several small shipyards on the surface that had their doors closed, meaning there could be ships inside that were at least partially battle capable, but above that there were thousands of other smaller craft on the deck, ranging from kirbies to transports, and she was curious what they were going to do now that Star Force controlled orbit.
The transports, at least, she thought would try and make a run for it, either to elsewhere in the system where their sensor stealthy armor would allow them to hide from the Humans, or over to Iradon to hide behind the battle stations in orbit there.
No activity was tagged as of yet, which Sara found a little surprising. The lizards didn’t accept defeat, they tried to do everything they could to beat or confound you, so them sitting still and waiting for the rain to fall didn’t quite fit their MO. That suggested to the trailblazer that something else was in play, like perhaps reinforcements being whistled up from a nearby system. That would encourage the lizards to hunker down and weather the storm, but there shouldn’t have been any sizeable fleets nearby, not since Paul had put the final nail in their coffin over Atlantica.
Living up to his moniker of ‘The Admiral,’ Paul had lead them into a total rout of the lizard forces in orbit once Star Force had received a steady stream of new fleets coming out from Sol and Epsilon Eridani. The lizards had also been receiving reinforcements, but the ones Paul, Sara, and the others on station were receiving were the newest models, giving them increased tactical options.
Paul had stretched those options to their limit and worked a bit of his strategic magic, moving the enemy around the system as he wanted, setting up a hammer blow assault that cracked their strongest formations, leaving scattered remnants for the trailblazers to clean up afterwards. Sara had taken part in the fighting alongside him, but Paul’s genius in naval combat still outmatched hers, and she had no qualms in giving him credit for the winning strategy, though it wasn’t his efforts alone that won them naval superiority.
The battle under the water was another matter entirely, but now that they’d cut off almost all lizard resupply runs to Atlantica Kyler expected that to change, given that the lizards didn’t harvest resources from the sea floor as easily as they did on land. Now knowing where the major lizard bases were on Atlantica, Star Force was working its way towards a major aquatics offensive, but now that orbit had been bottled up there was no need for multiple trailblazers in the system, so they’d split up to other tasks, with Sara taking one of two fleets out to harass nearby lizard systems and keep them on the defensive while Star Force continued to colonize new systems in the expansion zone that stretched out from Earth’s original territory around Sol to Namek.
That ‘gap’ between Star Force and lizard territory was slowly filling in with side projects, some of which were Hycre, who’d been colonizing several systems. The area was vulnerable, which was why Star Force had pushed into the lizard lines, drawing the battles to Atlantica in order to keep the lizards from finding and hitting their more vulnerable areas. Those areas were now strengthening, so as long as the handful of trailblazers on the front could keep the lizards distracted for another decade or so, the weakness in the expansion region would diminish on its own.
After Sara’s fleet finished up the lengthy process of demolishing the lizards’ orbital infrastructure around Epipo they made the jump across the system to Iradon and continued the eradication process there, which took considerably more time given that the planet had a larger lizard population. Once that process was completed Sara picked a single target on the surface and had it pounded flat with the fleet’s rail guns, obliterating a large lizard base/city before retreating from the planet.
The trailblazer had her fleet pulled back into the Hawkeye and its 4 sister jumpships, which she then split up with orders to pinball around the system from planet to planet pulling scans and looking for additional lizard assets. They spent the better part of a week doing so before rendezvousing at the innermost planet, a small red gas giant that looked to be a few centuries away from being consumed by the system’s central star.
Once back together her fleet jumped out of the system, heading back to Namek via several other systems well below the destination on the galactic plane.
Three weeks later the Hawkeye decelerated against Nevarsor’s central star, arriving behind the other four warships that took up low orbits around the large yellow/orange sphere waiting for their command ship to arrive. Once Sara’s flagship did they made micro-jumps in series out to the 4th planet in the system, then across to the 7th that was Namek.
There they encountered a slew of orbital infrastructure, but sparse in number compared to Earth or Corneria. That said, the puzzle pieces that Paul was back to constructing were usually larger than a jumpship and equipped with enough shields and defenses to hold out on their own for a short period of time before the planetary defense fleet arrived.
Those ships, all drones controlled by the local comm grid from command centers either on nearby stations or from surface command centers, were sprinkled around low and middle orbit like the colored namesake on donuts, giving all orbital infrastructure at least some ships within quick response range should the lizards show up again.
The two moons that orbited the planet were barren and rocky, both in high orbits. Those also had a few orbital stations, connecting back to Namek via shipping lanes as they brought additional raw materials and manufactured goods produced on or around the moons back down to the planet for use in the ever growing infrastructure there.
What Paul had built in orbit paled in comparison to what was on the surface. It had been 30 years since they’d first set foot on the dry world, and in those three decades Paul had built one enormous city rivaling those on Corneria. Shield generators of massive size protected the city from orbital bombardment on a scale that even Sara’s five warships wouldn’t be able to penetrate even if they rained rail gun slugs down on them all day.
It was what was called a ‘strong point,’ around which other infrastructure could be built and people could evacuate back to if needed. There were hundreds of small outposts scattered across Namek, mainly resource gathering operations, but the population and industry was all within the city, safe beneath the shield that could even hold back a kamikaze cruiser falling from orbit.
A kamikaze jumpship was another matter, and as impressive as Star Force’s shield technology became, there was always a way to penetrate it…with that being adding more mass.
That was why Paul had devoted a great deal of resources to the planetary defense fleet, so it could intercept any kamikaze ships before they could make a run on the city. There was no such thing as an impenetrable target, but Paul had done a good job of making one very difficult colony for the lizards to crack, and apparently the enemy had thought so too, for after a few sniffs of combat at Namek they’d given up the attempt, focusing their efforts on Atlantica instead.
Sara’s fleet accessed the local grid and plotted a course to one of the storage/repair yards that orbited nearby a shipyard, both of whom were located on the boundary between low and middle orbit, which put their full revolution at just under 24 hours, given that Namek had slightly less mass than Earth. The ships took their time getting there, conserving fuel and bouncing their way in between stations as they pushed against both planet and moons to adjust their trajectories until they got around to the side of the planet where their target currently was.
The station dwarfed all five warships, given the fact that it was mostly empty space inside, but it was still an impressive and intimidating perfect cube, even more so as the primary bay doors opened up, giving Sara’s fleet enough room to fly inside if they wished, but that wasn’t the plan.
The Hawkeye and other warships disconnected their damaged drones, some of which had already underwent patch work on site, and flew them out away from the fleet while replacement drones came out of the massive construct. The controllers in the fleet exchanged ships with the controllers in the repair yard, though the handoff occurred without any visible twitches, and within an hour Sara’s fleet was back up to full strength, minus the ordinance they’d expended. That they’d have to pick up along with foodstuffs and other supplies via dropship shipments which were already being scheduled by her command staff that worked silently on the bridge while she opened up a commlink to the surface.
“Welcome back,” Paul’s hologram said upon popping into view. “Any problems?”
“Not really,” Sara said, almost disappointed. “There was less resistance than we thought. We eliminated all ships and orbital infrastructure, then took out a base before bugging out. Surface activity was nil, which made me think they might have been holding out for reinforcements, but none arrived before we left the system. I pulled a survey run before we left.”
“We lost a cargo jumpship,” Paul said bluntly. “Bad jump.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed. She knew well the dangers of interstellar travel, but so far Star Force’s record had seen only a handful of accidents over the past three centuries. The mathematical calculations and drive control technology were critical to making an accurate jump, but such things had always been well within their engineers’ ability, making her wonder what had happened.
“Where?”
“Here we think. It was part of a convoy from Corneria. 18 jumpships left, 17 arrived. We also picked up stellar disturbance that coincided with its arrival ETA, so we’re pretty sure it hit the star.”
“Braking malfunction?”
Paul shook his head. “The disruption pattern on the star was widespread.”
“Damn,” Sara said, closing her eyes. That meant the jumpship failed to decelerate, not due to a shipboard malfunction, but because it’d been damaged/destroyed mid jump…meaning collision with debris on the spacelane. “Which route were they taking in?”
“Hadren,” Paul said, naming the system the convoy had jumped from in order to get to Nevarsor. “I’ve flagged it as yellow, given the other 17 ships made it through in the same timespan.”
“Where was it in line?”
“5th.”
“Any damage to the others?” she asked, knowing slower moving bits could have collided with the ships behind, or hit the ships ahead when they decelerated and the debris did not.”
“Not so much as a scratch.”
Sara’s mind was flipping over, trying to wrap her head around the danger. “So what do we do, call this a fluke or tag it as impassable?”
“We’re rerouting convoys through other jumplanes, but I wouldn’t recommend red flagging it entirely. For whatever reason 17 other ships got through, though losing even one is enough to warrant a redirect.”
“What’s it been, 50 or 60 years since the last one?”
“53,” Paul said, already having looked it up. “Andres to Palora.”
Sara recognized the names of two of Star Force’s inhabited systems with a direct line between them…no stopovers or redirects needed. That spacelane saw an enormous amount of traffic, and despite the lost jumpship the route had never been flagged. Then again, they didn’t know what had happened to it. It hadn’t been part of a convoy, but a single transit that simply didn’t show up on arrival. Questions still hadn’t been answered, and there were a number of people who suggested that the ship had misjumped and missed the target star entirely, doomed to be lost in space as it coasted through the interstellar void hoping to stumble across a gravity well to brake against.
“No chance of a misjump here?”
Paul shook his head. “Doubtful.”
“How much time does that add to our convoys?”
“13 lightyears distance, as for time that varies depending on the how new a jumpship you’re talking about,” he reminded her.
“I was afraid it would have been more than that,” Sara commented, knowing that there were already several red flagged spacelanes in the expansion region, and tagged as such because of either the Hycre maps labeled them as dangerous or because of Star Force’s own exploration, which saw them sending out computer-controlled survey ships. When several of the tiny jumpships didn’t return from a target system, they labeled the route untenable and searched elsewhere.
As a result the quickest routes geographically weren’t always available, meaning the distance from one system to another varied widely. Also, with every new generation of jumpship, the distance they could make a single jump across accurately was increasing, opening up new, longer spacelanes than Star Force had previously been unable to utilize…though ones that the Hycre used regularly.
“We got lucky,” Paul admitted. “I sent a courier out around to warn incoming ships, but it shouldn’t have arrived just yet. After that it’s heading back to Corneria to request a boatload of survey ships. I’d rather not lose that spacelane if we don’t have to.”
“Not losing all of them makes me wonder too.”
“You sticking around or heading back out?” Paul asked, changing subjects.
“I’m going to rotate crews out and give the regulars a bit of time planetside. You have another target for me, or am I going back for seconds?”
“Nothing definite, but a few probables have shown up. We also have a diplomatic envoy on the way out. Seems the Hycre have found another race that’s sticking it to the lizards.”
Sara arched an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Primitive bunch,” Paul said before she started to get any ideas, “but they’re really big.”
“How big?”
“Remember Lord of the Rings?”
“Yeah.”
“Think Ents.”
“Who pulled that assignment?”
“Emily.”
“That should be an interesting debrief to read.”
“My thoughts exactly. You up for some challenge runs?”
“Always. Psionic or regular?”
“Thought we’d go old school.”
Sara smiled. “I’ll be down within 24 hours.”
4
April 22, 2432
Ventross System
Albo (lizard territory)
Kara sat on her hands and knees in utter silence, adhesively attached to the hull of a drone cutter as it raced towards the yellow planet’s atmosphere with a host of lizard warships in pursuit from multiple angles, but given the approach speed it was mustering it was going to beat them all to the insertion position, then slingshot around the planet and hopefully return to the single warship in extreme high orbit that had brought it and the Archon here.
Sitting inside both the shield boundary and the inertial dampening field of the ship, Kara felt nothing as the drone made several navigational tweaks, then decelerated hard against Albo’s gravity well. Inside her Zen’zat armor’s scale-like second skin she monitored the telemetry being fed to her by the drone and awaited the arrival at the drop off point…or rather the point she was going to drop off from, given that the ship wasn’t going to stop.
As had been programmed prior to its released from the Broadsword, it inserted into a very low orbit at high speed, belly down…with Kara riding on the underside so that from her perspective the large, yellow planet was above her and bracketed by clusters of bright stars in constellations unfamiliar. On her back was a large bump that her armor had expanded to cover, inside of which was a pack of supplies attached snugly to her spine. She didn’t feel the weight, nor any weight, given that riding on the exterior hull of the drone there was no gravity, real or artificial, to pull on her. All that held her in place were her hands, knees, and booted toes that gripped the Adamantium hull armor in a bonding mechanism that Star Force had yet to fully understand.
When Kara’s telemetry indicated that the drone had reached the proper position a countdown appeared on her HUD, which rather than appearing in front of her eyes, which was an option with the V’kit’no’sat tech, it appeared within her mind, given the Ikrid link between person and machine.
When that countdown expired she walked her feet up underneath her and mentally severed the adhesive link to the hull, then using the power of her legs and the powered nature of the red, scale-like armor she wore, Kara jumped off the hull, passing through the shield perimeter and falling towards the planet’s atmosphere below.
Once she had separation she rotated around so that the planet was below her feet, then using the engine technology within the armor…technology that far surpassed that on the drone warship…she began arcing her trajectory and coming down into the atmosphere at insanely high speed, protected by her own personal shields as she dropped like a meteor down towards the surface.
Once into the thick of the air and well away from the lizard warships in orbit, Kara began decelerating more than friction alone would allow, and after a long braking maneuver she leveled off some 12 kilometers above the surface of a mountain ridge with a humongous lizard city visible on the edge of the horizon, which was her ultimate destination.
With her mental link to her armor she could feel the lizard sensor beams hitting her body…and being absorbed, making her as much of a sensor ghost as the lizards had once been to Star Force tech. Her own sensors tagged lizard fighters patrolling in clusters over the city, probably deployed when the drone appeared in orbit, but they didn’t move in her direction, for they didn’t detect her presence.
They may have seen her fiery reentry into the atmosphere, she acknowledged, but that was now no longer the case, for she was flying level to the ground searching for a nook to set down in from which she could then approach on foot. The city, like most lizard bases, had a shield topping it, preventing her from dropping directly inside, besides which, at that close of range it would be difficult for her to evade detection even with her small size and stealth armor.
Other than that she had no idea what she was going up against. This system was far inside lizard territory…which she’d had to travel to in order to find infrastructure of this size. She was here for one reason and one reason only, and that was to hunt down lizard variants that they hadn’t encountered before.
This mission would have been a suicide run for anyone else, but given the Vorch’nas attached to her wrist, Kara had options none of the other Archons had, and she was glad the trailblazers acknowledged that fact and allowed her to go on solo missions such as this…though to be fair this was by far the most risky one she’d attempted thus far, as well as the furthest away from Star Force territory.
Kara spotted a good looking crevice in the jagged mountains and descended to it, coming down through the yellow foliage that was larger than her body. She dropped to the black soil gently, glancing around at the huge tree trunks surrounding her, then back up at the spherical leaves that could easily have doubled as a blanket for her or the lizards.
Her sensors didn’t detect any lifeforms nearby, so she retracted her armor, with the red scales pulling back off her body and retreating into the clear gem on her left wrist, leaving her dressed in a skin-tight environmental armor suit that would protect her against cuts and scrapes and little else. Her hands and head were left exposed, and on her back she carried her pack of supplies that contained no weapons. For combat she’d be relying on her Vorch’nas entirely.
Kara sucked in a deep breath of the air, smelling the odd forest and the musty scent that it contained. The soil was damp, but not wet, though she had seen a storm front approaching from the north as she descended, meaning she was probably in for some rain within the day.
Visually getting her bearings, Kara walked up the ridgeline, concealed beneath the high yellow canopy, as she quietly made her way across the forest towards the lizard city, knowing that she had 1 week to do her thing before another drone warship would make a collection run through low orbit, at which point she’d have to fly up to it else miss her ride for another full week…and the supplies she’d brought with her wouldn’t last forever.
Two days later, after walking/running through miles of forest, Kara encountered the first of the lizard patrols surrounding the city. They were situated well out into the forest, with groups of three moving through the more or less clear soil that surrounded the car-sized tree trunks. The canopy overhead was thick, allowing no direct sunlight to the ground, leaving only small plants or mosses dotting the forest floor. The lizards were roaming about on well beaten paths in the dirt, with multiple trios in the nearby area as they crept their way north to south.
They would have been easy enough to get by or take down, but Kara intended to do neither. Slipping off her backpack and stashing it up next to a tree trunk, Kara used her Vorch’nas to raise her up the length of the tree and into the lowest branches. From there she hopped across the gaps, scattering a number of birds and other critters inhabiting the upper levels of the forest as she stalked the lizards on their patrol routes below.
Once she was directly over the paths they were traveling she found a nook up against the main trunk and sat down, wrapping her legs around the thick branch and reaching out with her mind. She’d already been picking up the lizards’ presence with her Ikrid, which now seemed to always be on in at least a passive sense. She could turn it off if she wanted, but when her mind relaxed a type of mental radar always worked its way into activity, letting her know when a mind was near.
Concentrating, she extended that range out greatly, picking up 21 lizards beneath her, all of whom were walking slowly, so Kara knew she had to either work quick or keep pace with them.
She’d had plenty of experience working with alien minds, not just lizards, but their allies on Daka, some with their permission, some without. Each race had a distinctive feel to it, and then each individual was different in lesser ways on their own. When she touched the lizards’ minds, which were not blocked as Humans were, the feel was what she would have described as ‘purpose.’
The lizards didn’t think as individuals. They were part of a larger organism, each one with a roll to play, based on their biological variation and their assignments. These lizards on patrol were bored, she could sense, but they were none the less alert and committed to their task, as tedious as it was, patrolling the perimeter on a secure world.
As she searched through several of their minds, accessing their surface thoughts, she realized they weren’t just here to guard the perimeter against invasion, but against the local wildlife as well. Her skills weren’t developed enough to probe much beyond their current thoughts, but she caught the gist of there being large creatures roaming the forest that on occasion would encroach on the lizard cities and do some damage.
These lizards, she discovered, were looking for signs of trouble so that they could relay position data to takedown teams that stood ready within the city…which explained why these lizards were wearing only trousers and a belt, rather than their normal vest armor. Each of them carried a comm device and plasma pistol, and Kara could sense that that was far from enough to take down one of the native creatures should they come across one.
The boredom suggested that they hadn’t encountered a target in some time, and they didn’t think they would anytime soon. The hunters had done most of the hard work already, leaving only the wild regions of the planet as a threat, but the creatures in those areas could still migrate out, hence the regular patrols.
The lizards kept walking/creeping along, acquitting their task while otherwise being uninterested in it. None the less the sense of purpose was still there, as it had been with all lizard minds Kara had ever touched.
In contrast the Calavari minds, as far as Kara would describe them, felt like ‘honor,’ whereas the Protovic were ‘curious,’ the Gnar were ‘greedy,’ the Bsidd were ‘calculating,’ the Kvash were ‘committed,’ and the Scionate were ‘eager.’ She’d never encountered a Nestafar after her psionics had manifested, nor a Hycre, which very few Humans had ever encountered face to face. Other Alliance races each had their own mental idiosyncrasies, some which blocked most of her mental control due to their incompatibility with Human thoughts, but the more she worked with them the more capable she became at reading and influencing their thoughts and senses.
Lizards were easy to read now, and she probably had more psionic experience with them than any other Archon. Still, the raw power the Zak’de’ron had utilized in subduing the Nestafar on Daka still caused her jaw to drop, especially now that she had some context with which to define it. She was an ant to the dragon’s very large boot, and there was no question as to who had been in command back in the day, for the Zen’zat simply didn’t have the power to challenge their masters.
Which made all the more sense to make them immune to Ikrid control, otherwise one race within the V’kit’no’sat could control them, using the Zen’zat as a wedge against the others and create more internal conflict. By keeping the Zen’zat neutral it created an equality between the various races, and an equality between the Zen’zat and the dinosaurs. She got the distinct feeling though, that the Zak’de’ron had simply done it to keep them from being so pathetic, and because a tool that an adversary could take control of would have been a liability as much as an asset.
The Zak’de’ron didn’t need to control the Zen’zat’s minds…for they were already so dominate it truly didn’t matter.
But whereas the Zen’zat were the inferiors in that regard, compared to the lizards they were the ones who dominated…even one as young and inexperienced as Kara.
Sitting up high on her branch she examined the lizards as they passed below, then focused on the rearmost of the lot and linked to its mind, assuming control over its nervous system despite the range involved. She thought it was just close enough and realized she was right when her remote hack gave her access to its body, despite the limited ‘bandwidth’ she had to operate on. Had a Zak’de’ron tried this it wouldn’t have even needed to blink to make the override, but Kara had to focus all of her Ikrid energy to create the link down to the lizard and render it unconscious.
It tripped over its own feet and sank to the ground, the noise of it falling being swallowed up by the damp soil.
Kara pivoted around her branch and fell off, pulling a Mary Poppins with her Vorch’nas to drop her to the ground below, where she ran up on the fallen lizard and planted her fingertips against its skull, keeping her eyes and Pefbar locked on the other two lizards in its trio that were still continuing on ahead, ready to take them down if they noticed her or the lack of their companion. They had about 20 meters of spacing in between each of them, so Kara figured she had at least a brief window of opportunity.
With the direct physical connection her available ‘bandwidth’ shot up exponentially, now that she wasn’t having to transmit across a gap. Linking into the lizard’s brain directly through its own nervous system she dug into its recent memories, locating an outpost not far from here. She followed that memory to others linked to it, quickly getting a crude map of the area.
Not wanting to press her luck she jumped up into the air and flew back up into the branches, then remote linked to the lizard’s mind and half woke it up, getting it to stand back up and start walking forward before coming back to full consciousness. After that she let go her control but monitored its thoughts, wondering if it would notice anything.
It did, but not knowing what had happened to make it black out and fall behind the others it shook off the weirdness and jogged up to reform with the others, keeping Kara’s presence undetected.
She waited a few seconds, then hopped off through the branches and back over to where she left her pack, though it took her a while to find it. Once down on the ground she pulled out a vile that held tiny cubes and slipped one out telekinetically and flew it into her mouth, smashing the concentrated ambrosia sugar cube between her teeth before swallowing as she put the container back in its place.
Kara slid the backpack over her shoulders and attached the waistband to hold it firmly against her spine, then took off running, crossing the trail behind the lizards and heading in the direction of the nearest outpost on her mental map. As she moved through the very sparse underbrush she was conscious of the footprints she was leaving behind, but hoped the next patrol through wouldn’t notice. If they did they’d be hard pressed to catch up with her, but sounding an alarm would make her jog a lot harder. She needed to remain a ghost on this world as long as possible.
About half an hour later she picked up a weird mental signature on the periphery of her passive sense, just before a massive spider-like creature dropped down from above in eerie silence and fell on top of her, pinning her inside a cage of ten spindly legs.
The torso of the creature knocked her down, shocking her given the suddenness of the attack, but as soon as she smacked the ground her instincts took over and an invisible shield covered her body and pack a split second before her Vorch’nas spat out its red scales in a wave that quickly encompassed her body, but even before that happened an orifice on the underside of the spider opened up and a sharp tooth-like spear jutted out, hitting the dirt as Kara kicked her way to the side, dragging her pack across the ground like an anchor.
She pointed her left wrist up and a weapon formed on it, followed by a quick yet powerful pale green stun blast that rendered the creature unconscious and dropped it down on top of her…but her shields caught it, which she expanded outwards in a sphere to lift it off her.
“Huph,” she said, blowing out a relieved breath. She had been about to blast it, but then had the presence of mind to go for the stun to avoid a corpse that would have told any lizard patrols that whoever had killed it was in the area.
Using her shield like a giant ping pong ball, she flew her way to the side, pushing the spider’s legs out away from her body until she got into the clear, then she switched it back to energy mode and got her feet under here, looking back at the ugly critter that probably out massed her by a factor of ten.
Expanding her mind out she searched for others nearby, finding several lifeforms up in the trees, but none that felt like this one.
“Guess their hunters missed one,” she whispered to herself, hoping the lizard patrols were more alert than she had been. Enemies they might have been, but she didn’t like the idea of anyone going out that way as spider food.
Lowering her shields into standby mode and retracting her armor all the way back into her jewel, Kara jogged off, accelerating back up into her cross country cadence as she stretched out her Ikrid senses to a considerable range, actively scanning both the area ahead and above so she wouldn’t get caught off guard again.
5
April 23, 2432
Ventross System
Albo
Kara knelt down on a tree branch more than a meter wide, looking out through the breaks in the huge leaves and down on the expansion zone around the lizard city where they were adding another section of buildings, having cut back the forest to accommodate the new construction. The area expanded out from an almost solid barrier wall formed by old building sides across a 3 kilometer gap that stretched out as far as the Archon could see to the left and right, making it appear that the lizards were adding a new ring to the more or less circular city.
The new construction ended her forest cover, meaning she was going to have to start playing cat and mouse to go any further.
Before she did that she wanted to get the layout, which involved a slew of partially built structures and a beehive of lizard activity as they delivered parts and crews to the sites. Not all areas ahead of her were currently active, but it was going to be hard to avoid the construction crews all the way up to the pseudo wall that marked the boundary of the original city.
Most of the structures were typical lizard, yellow/tan in construction with an emphasis on the tan. Some were shaped like bread loafs, others were teepee variety, but Kara also saw numerous combinations of the two, along with architecture that they hadn’t typically seen in other lizard bases. They had reconnaissance from the Alliance about the more heavily populated lizard worlds, and the infrastructure here definitely matched up more with those than the frontier worlds that Star Force had been fighting the enemy on.
A lot of these buildings also didn’t match the blueprints Star Force had of lizard infrastructure, captured from that first battle back in Epsilon Eridani. Those, they now knew, held the full schematics for the technology the lizard expeditionary teams had available to them, including the genetic material to grow 11 distinct lizard varieties. Star Force had actually used the enemy’s tools to build their own lizard base on Corneria, learning from their technology and testing their own against it, figuring out where exactly to hit their fighters, predators, coppers, etc for maximum damage.
Trouble was, useful as those schematics were, they were almost 200 years old and, Star Force had learned, not the full extent of their tech tree…or their biology. A lot of the buildings Kara was seeing now, both those fully constructed and partial ones fell outside the expeditionary tech she was familiar with, meaning this world was definitely higher up the ranking chain, which she hoped also meant more variants for her to hunt down.
To do that she had to get inside the city, but daytime wasn’t her best option, so she decided to wait out the long rotational cycle in her tree, observing what she could and planning out her infiltration. Fortunately none of the defense turrets in the expansion zone were operational, and she hoped their ground forces were likewise elsewhere…then again, her experience with those came from front line bases, so maybe a city like this had less active defenses. The Alliance reports indicated more large scale defenses on other worlds, but neither they nor Star Force had scouted out this one, meaning she was having to learn everything about it from scratch.
When night finally came she slipped out of her tree, dropping to the ground with her Zen’zat armor concealing her in the deep red scales that she adjusted into a stealth mode. The V’kit’no’sat battle strategy wasn’t one that favored cloaking technology, so they’d never attempted to develop it. Their MO was to come in the front door and kick the crap out of everything that dared to get in their way…and with an attitude like that who needed to sneak around?
Scouting was another issue entirely, but the same direct approach was taken. Like their warships, they favored diminishing sensor range rather than hiding altogether, and not even the Zak’de’ron had seen fit to develop even an active camouflage system for themselves or their Zen’zat, but fortunately they did allow for color alterations, as well as for sensor dampening technologies within the armor. That allowed Kara to both change her scales to a null-like black that would soak up excess light and take away any glare the normally shiny scales would reflect.
It didn’t make her invisible, but rather a shadow amongst other shadows…so long as she stayed out of the lizard lights, of which there were many, so when she got to the edge of the forest she began hopping from one structure to another and sticking to the shadows they made, set against orange flood lights.
She didn’t have the area to herself, for the construction crew continued building round the clock, but with a few Jedi mind tricks here and there she was able to slip by them, ducking from cover to cover and making her way across the construction zone so long as she was patient and waited for her openings.
Kara got stuck once when a flock of kirbies came in with several large beams suspended by lines beneath them for the building directly next to her. She had to camp out in a shadowy crevice between pillar and wall for half an hour before they eventually flew off, then she was able to dart across the dirt streets and continue to make her way in towards the city wall.
When she got there it looked a lot less solid than it did from a distance. There were roadways breaking through at multiple points, and the buildings weren’t arranged in a straight line, but were sticking out like blocks in random fashion, making what had looked like a smooth boundary really a mottled mess of incoherent infrastructure.
The roadways did switch over from dirt to stone-like paving as Kara crossed the blurred line between new city and old, and the shadows that had been present in the construction side now vanished with street lights that made it impossible for her to walk about unnoticed…so she went up to the rooftops where there were still some shadows to be had and began jumping her way from one to another, trying to avoid the low ones for fear of being seen out a nearby window, few as they were on lizard buildings.
Finding a path in through the city was tricky, for the rooftops were not all flat. A lot of them were teepee shaped or slanted, meaning she either had to bypass those or go Spiderman on them. Kara did both as needed, working her way several kilometers into the city before finally going inside one of the larger buildings through a roof entrance.
She shifted her armor over to the color of the lizard interior hallways, giving her a yellowish look that would stand out less than pitch black, but with her psionic advantage she didn’t plan on relying on her visual camouflage, limited as it was. Moving down into the building she pried what she could from several passing minds, then ambushed one with an angled head that she knew to be a higher level coordinator variety they referred to as ‘librarians.’
Kara took the librarian down on its way through a hall with four other lizards within sight, but through a little psionic trickery they didn’t notice when the librarian veered into the wall and slumped halfway down to the ground, only to have a pair of armored hands reach out from a doorway and drag it inside.
When the Archon got the door shut she released her Ikrid link to the others, having had to juggle four different sets of senses simultaneously, not to mention knocking out her target. That had strained her, but she’d managed to pull it off, based on the lack of reaction from the minds of the others as they continued on with their duties on the other side of the walls from where she and her captive now rested.
It was a large room, with two other lizards already napping in it. Those she’d knocked out when she’d come down from the balcony above. The two story room held an obelisk in the center that was some sort of data device, or so she’d gathered from the two users. It was low priority and sparsely used, which should give her a bit of privacy in which to conduct her ‘interviews,’ though she still had to keep her Ikrid radar alert for others coming in on either level.
She pulled the librarian over to a bench and got to work on his head, finding his mind more complex than the standard variants across the room. This type of lizard was used to deal with data, and as such should provide her with valuable intel…specifically where in the city the higher ranking lizards were.
That information wasn’t hard to retrieve, for the lizard’s mind was segmented like a computer database, with the hierarchy well established. It served a command variant, which Star Force already knew about. They labeled them ‘administrators’ due to the fact that they didn’t command anything in combat, but ran large scale operations from a logistics angle.
It was its superior that Kara was interested in, and the librarian gave her not one, but three others, two of which were on planet. Images were fuzzy, but she got the location of one of them on the lizard’s mental map of the city, giving her another building to get to.
Not wanting to overstay her welcome, she let go of the librarian and jumped/flew up to the second level, heading back through that level to a maintenance shaft that led to the service area directly underneath the roof, distracting a few minds along the way. When she got back outside she ran across the rooftop to the edge and jumped across the street, angling up to the wall of a much larger building, this one shaped like a teepee.
Kara hit the side and clung to it, then flew up the side keeping her body pressed as close to the building side as possible to reduce her silhouette until she reached the peak. It had no entrance, but a dome-like cap that glowed orange that she sat down upon, making her armor go reflective so she blended in with the massive light as she looked out over the city, trying to spot her next target.
Star Force cities had buildings of various size, but none clustered together in the center like the nations of Earth used to have. This lizard city seemed like a throwback, with the tallest buildings all located towards the center, including three massive ones that stood more than twice as tall as the others.
Those weren’t where the librarian had unwittingly directed her. Instead, the location it’d tagged was a massive building alongside those, but only 1/3rd the height. It was a fat teepee that dwarfed the one she now sat upon, but looked small given how far away on the horizon it was. She guessed it was at least 20 kilometers away, and her armor sensed her mental question and popped up a rangefinder in V’kit’no’sat measurement units, which she mentally translated into approximately 42 kilometers.
Kara sighed. She’d wanted to probe a big lizard city, and that’s just what she’d got. Resigning herself to a lot of indirect building hopping she eyed her next target, quashing the urge to just fly directly over there. She didn’t want to tip off the lizards to her presence, and this close in it would be unlikely that their sensors couldn’t detect her if she got up into the air…and it would be almost impossible to avoid being visibly spotted if she flew low over the streets.
She really hoped she wasn’t wasting her time, but so far no troops had been whistled up to come after her and she didn’t want to risk squandering whatever opportunity she had, so she slid off the top of the building, switching her armor back over into null black as she fell…then kicked off the side of the wall and crossed to another building top, coming down in a crouch as she looked around both with her eyes, her armor’s sensors, and her psionics.
No one was on this rooftop, despite the various protrusions sticking up that made her feel like she was standing inside a giant, inverted ice cube tray.
“One down, 50,000 to go,” she said, working her way over to the opposite side of the roof and picking out her next target, feeling for all the world like she was playing Frogger.
Wanting only to travel in the dark, it took three Star Force days and one and a half night sessions for her to make her way across to city center in zigzag fashion, camping out inside the buildings during daylight and catching a bit of sleep when she could, but she was reluctant to completely nod off, for she wanted to keep a watch on any nearby minds that came within her proximity.
Kara then found herself clinging to the outside of her target spire in the cover of night looking for a way inside. There was no roof, but only a lighted dome, meaning she had to either find or make an entrance…and it was looking like it was going to be the latter, unless she wanted to go down to the surface and try the front door.
After scouting around she finally decided to go in through one of the windows, but finding a room without occupants was difficult and took her the better part of an hour to locate, with her knowing that it might not stay unoccupied for long.
Looking like a Garfield car toy, she stuck to the outside of the triangular window and used her Dre’mo’don to melt through the surface, carving a wobbly circle and pushing the plug inside as it clung to her right palm. She crawled through and dropped to the ground on her head, rolling out into a somersault to bring herself back up to her feet.
She set the glass plug down on the floor just inside where she’d cut it, not sure what the lizards would make of it when they saw it but having little other choice. She needed to find this higher level lizard and to do that she had to get inside the building.
Kara crossed the small room, hopping over some sort of bench/chairs to get to the door, outside of which she felt several minds nearby, all of which were standard lizards. She accessed one of them and pulled what situational information she could, getting the basic layout of this level and those that that individual frequented…then it passed out of her Ikrid range and she tried another, and another, and another, picking up additional data and piecing together what she needed to know.
The off limits region of the building was only a few levels up, and having learned of secure check points inside, Kara decided to go back out through the window and climb up. When she did she couldn’t find a room without occupants, though she went the entire way around the spire looking for one. Settling on making some waves, she picked one and systematically picked off the minds inside, rendering them unconscious even as the others sprang up in panic and alarm.
She got to them before they could signal for help, she hoped, then climbed up onto the window and cut her way inside. All of the 9 lizards were librarian variants, and she pried the closest one up off a data console and set it back in its chair, delving into its mind and pulling out the location of its boss.
With a clear target set one level down on the other side of the building Kara set off through the hallways, distracting and blanking the minds of those she couldn’t otherwise slip past, hoping they didn’t have internal camera surveillance…or at least if they did that they weren’t actively monitoring it.
Boldly walking down some of the hallways that she had no choice but to go down, Kara worked her way over to an altogether separate complex that appeared to be a mix of command center and residential…all to serve the lizard variant that inhabited it.
Kara had to take a group of lizards down with a Fornax sphere when she entered one of the control nexuses, then she picked off a few minds, rendering them unconscious before Fornaxing the others again as she worked through them a few at a time. When she was finished she crossed over their unconscious bodies and headed for the one mind she sensed nearby that was slightly different from the others, entering a small elevator and moving up to a living center larger than any quarters she’d ever seen, Star Force or otherwise.
Inside she disabled a pair of guards and six attendants, then telekinetically yanked the comm device out of the larger lizard’s hand as it pulled the device from beneath its dark green robe.
Kara then hit it with a Fornax blast, taking the 7 foot tall lizard down to its knees before worming her way into its mind and sending it into sleep mode.
It slumped over, with its thick tail sticking up underneath its robe from the face plant it was doing. It was by far the largest she’d ever seen or heard about, literally dwarfing the maulers they used for hand to hand combat. Why their leaders were bigger she didn’t know, but she was glad Star Force wasn’t having to face down these in the field, for while they stood as tall as Knights, she guessed they outmassed them by 50% or more, especially with that muscular tail.
“I don’t have much time, big boy,” she said, peeling back the armor from her hands and placing her fingertips on its brutishly wide head, “so let’s see what you know.”
6
The structure of the lizard’s mind surprised Kara, for it was far more advanced than the others, not just in processing power but in complexity, and after only a cursory look through its recent memories she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the variant of ‘Mastermind’ that Paul had speculated to be operating on Atlantica.
Like the trailblazers, this lizard was tasked with overarching strategy and troubleshooting, leaving administrators to handle repetitive and mundane oversight duties. This one in particular was overseeing the infrastructure expansion on this city along with dozens of others on the planet, escalating up to what it labeled as Tier 9. Information on that was hard to retrieve, for it was buried deep within its mind, in such a way as it was considered common knowledge and didn’t need to be spelled out in cognitive thought.
From what she could pull from it, Tier 9 was another leveling up of the lizard infrastructure of not just this planet, but this star system. Once reached, it would give them more capabilities…capabilities that this mastermind needed to extend the dominion of the lizards in this section of the galaxy.
That meant this guy wasn’t just in charge of this system, but multiple ones. Meaning Kara had definitely found one of their big guns.
She followed memory to memory, unable to ‘search’ for specific information. It was like bringing up the most recent web page the individual had been to, then following the links on that page to other pages, then following more links from there. It was an indirect way of sifting through memories, but the only one available to her short of bringing the lizard partially back to consciousness and interrogating it with questions intended to jog specific memories.
Kara didn’t feel like going that route, so she just kept searching, following any connected memories that seemed pertinent. It took her a while to get used to the way this lizard categorized data, but once she did she was able to jump from ‘page’ to ‘page’ rather quickly, allowing her to soak up a wealth of data, tricky as it was given that it was all stored in visual, audial, or language formats…and her knowledge of the lizard language wasn’t that great.
Her armor had a translation program that the lizard language had been uploaded into, so she could hear what they were saying around her without having to try and think through the translation herself. She could even speak it back to them, allowing the armor to synthesize the appropriate sounds and pitches that her own voice had trouble with, but in this mental digging it was completely unhelpful, for it couldn’t connect to the lizard’s mind, only hers, and asking for a translation of individual words was tedious…so Kara did the best she could with her own knowledge of their language and pulled on visual memories as much as she could.
Numbers were much easier, especially when it came to strength assessments. This lizard had an enormous number of ships under its command, spread out across 28 star systems and 78 inhabited planets Tier 4 or higher. Not just cruisers, which seemed to be the lizards’ preferred ‘do it all’ starship, but battleships, dreadnaughts, carriers, assault pillars, and invokers…all of which took higher tiered colonies to produce.
The last two versions were new to Star Force, and Kara dug into the memories of them deeply, discovering that the ‘assault pillars,’ which was her best translation of the lizard terms, were massive siege weapons, one of which could utterly rip apart a seda with a single shot from range. That scared Kara instantly, knowing how much Paul and the others relied on the sedas as strongpoints in orbit. She had to get this intel back to him as soon as possible so he could upgrade their defenses, otherwise they could run right over Atlantica’s defenses with ease…or even Namek’s.
So why hadn’t they? Kara started to get the sense that the lizards had only been playing with the Humans so far, or the Alliance for that matter, because these assault pillars had never been mentioned in any of the tactical analysis briefs she’d read. Nor the invokers, which operated like a gigantic mobile battle station that used area of effect weapons against attacking fleets.
Kara didn’t understand that straight off so she delved deeper, horrified by the tactical clarity that the lizard’s mind then provided. The invoker looked like a huge black spider, with arm-like pylons jutting out at numerous angles. They ‘invoked’ what looked like a space storm, with energy cascades similar to lightning stretching out into nearby fleets and savaging them with a single discharge. One memory she pulled showed a H’kar fleet engaging one of them with upwards of 1000 warships and being torn asunder within minutes.
A chill ran down Kara’s spine, but she pressed further. She needed this intel badly, no matter how much it creeped her out. These invokers were fleet killers, and judging by the approximate size were bigger than a seda. She got the sense that they weren’t easy to build, but rather were used like chess pieces on the galactic playing board, reserved for the truly large engagements and densely defended worlds. Apparently the Alliance didn’t rate that high on the lizards’ enemy list, but the H’kar did…that was something the Alliance had told them from day one, along with the fact that once they were done killing the H’kar they’d turn their full attention on the Alliance.
That was before the Nestafar had backstabbed them and made an Alliance victory even less likely…but with technology like this?
Kara knew what Star Force had to do…they had to get to the invokers first and take them down before they could be deployed against them. To do that meant excessive trickery, and she was sure Paul would come up with something. If not, she might have to go in alone and try to mess one up from the inside.
But that could wait till later. She didn’t know how much time she was going to have with this one so she didn’t want to waste what she did have speculating. Kara searched for more high level tech, coming up with a slew of different ship variants, some combat capable but most were mission specific, such as dedicated mining vessels, couriers, and whatnot. It was their infrastructure tech that blew her away, with so many ground-based weapon systems that she literally blushed from embarrassment at having thought Star Force might one day make an excursion into the lizards’ home worlds and knock them out of contention before they could destroy the Alliance.
It was the Tiers…it was all about the Tiers. Each level up they progressed they opened up more tech options, meaning the longer you left a lizard world alone the more powerful it would become.
As soon as that thought hit Kara’s mind it triggered a strategic memory within the lizard, and a galactic battle plan emerged like a mental map…and she suddenly realized what the lizards were doing.
“Oh shit,” she whispered, realizing how much trouble they were in. The lizards weren’t aggressive brutes…or, well, they were, but that wasn’t what was driving them to expand. They were builders, engaging in frontier wars while they strengthened their core worlds. Their entire fight against the Alliance was to keep them preoccupied, which was why they were sending lower tech forces out to face them.
If they lost, they’d gain information on the enemy’s strengths and weaknesses, then send another assault force to experiment with modifications. The fighting would keep the enemy on the enemy’s turf, not the lizards…and the lizards had so many midrange worlds surrounding their core that even if the enemy pressed in they’d have star system after star system to hack their way through to get to the prime lizard defenses.
And the lizards were adding midrange worlds. What was once frontier, if left unchecked, would grow new lizard colonies. Those colonies would push out, planting outposts and probing the surrounding systems as a distraction of their own while they advanced to the next Tier, adding yet another line of defense to the overall lizard empire.
If the lizards won worlds in the frontier wars, so much the better, but either way they gained time to strengthen and grow their core…and it was a strategy that they’d been employing for millennia, going all the way back to their original homeworld when they had to fight against three other races across 5 continents.
The lizard’s mind flashed back to those stories, seeming to cement the strategy into the very fabric of their race. They’d only had one variant back then, one that they didn’t even use now. All the others had been genetically engineered over time as needed, with the aquatics version being the most recent addition.
Following that thread Kara pulled the identity of this lizard’s superior, discovering that it wasn’t one that grown. Almost as soon as she made that realization the mastermind’s memories linked all the way back to its beginning and Kara could see the flash of light as its development cocoon was opened to air and it stepped out into the cold fully mature, driven by genetic knowledge and a singular sense of purpose as it worked its way through basic orientation drills and exercises, then within only a few weeks it was given control over this world’s strategic workings, learning and growing along with the colony.
But now it wasn’t in full control, for a higher ranking lizard had been brought in…not grown, but brought in from the lizard core. It was one of the ruling brood that, unlike the rest of the lizards, was part of a bloodline. Kara loosely translated its title as ‘templar’ and dug into the mastermind’s assessment of the one on Albo.
It was not the intellectual equal of mastermind, and the lizard knew this, but it did serve a purpose…a very important purpose. Whereas mastermind had been grown on this world, never having seen the core worlds or anything else of the lizard empire, the templars were the glue that held their vast interstellar empire together. Like Star Force’s Archons, the templars were all family, and viewed each other as such…not as competition.
That was key, Kara knew, for otherwise it would have been very easy for one region or system to break off and go rogue, given the travel times and comm lag between one part of their empire and another. All the genetically grown lizards had a purpose in serving the mission needs of the local region, while the templars functioned as their link to the commonality, focusing on empire-wide concerns.
The templar here had a purpose, as did the mastermind, and ironically there was no clash between them. Sometimes the templar would need resources to be dispatched back to the core, which the mastermind would supply, or specific systems to take, guard, or abandon…all according to the overall strategy of the empire, which the ruling brood kept to themselves. The masterminds were the warmasters, and the templars were the ones who moved them around the galactic chess board assigning missions, leaving the genetic constructs free to micromanage as they saw fit, for the templars knew they were not as brilliant as those they commanded, and kept to their designated roll within lizard society.
Higher up their ranking, amongst the ruling brood, was another lizard variant…this one a biological upgrade to the templars, keeping to the live birth bloodlines. The lizard Kara was probing had never seen one, nor probably ever would unless this world rose to a very high Tier. They were the uber-leaders of the lizards, which she dubbed ‘sovereigns,’ who oversaw legions of templars.
Kara knew that the local templar could one day upgrade into a sovereign, but the mastermind’s memories said that was a distant possibility, tagging this one as very green, thus it had been given a periphery command where it could learn and develop while still serving the empire’s overall purpose…which Kara realized was to spread out and dominate the galaxy. Lizard society was all they knew, and all they would tolerate.
This mastermind knew that enslaving other races was one option it had, but they could never be treated as equals…only tools.
That meant the Nestafar were going to get backstabbed themselves, because the lizards would never tolerate another power within their borders. She rather liked that apart, aside from the fact that it meant the lizards could only be stopped through defeat and probably annihilation. There was no diplomatic channels available…they were what they were genetically designed to be, and unless those handcuffs were removed their individuality was not going to surface. Without it, they couldn’t be reasoned with, and were essentially slaves to their own race.
That both saddened and impressed Kara, for all they’d accomplished, dishonorable as some of it may be, they deserved a nod of respect…but the idea that they could have come so far and yet be so blind at the same time made them pathetic, which Kara felt that any advanced race didn’t deserve to be.
Both sentiments faded as the strategic implications of her newfound intel rose back to the forefront of her mind, along with the immense danger they posed to the Alliance and Star Force. Both had time to counter the lizards, given their current lackadaisical war strategy, but it was only a matter of time before they escalated the conflict, multiple times, until they overwhelmed their opposition.
Kara desperately hoped the H’kar could give them more trouble than expected, but she didn’t hold out hope that the once great rimward race had any chance of winning…not now that she knew what kind of tech the lizards were holding up their sleeve.
The Humans’ greatest asset was the fact that the lizards didn’t perceive them as a significant threat, coupled with the fact that their territory was on the frontier and farther away from the lizard core worlds than that of the rest of the Alliance. That made it all the more imperative that Star Force suck more technological upgrades out of the V’kit’no’sat database and set up a solid line of defense before the lizards got wise to their true potential.
Kara realized for the first time that the Alliance, her team that she’d never give up on, was going to get beaten, and beaten badly…even if the Nestafar had stuck with them. Knowing that, Star Force had to adjust its plans…and Kara made a mental note to have a very long chat with Paul about that when she got back.
She started digging into recent memories, trying to soak up some tactical knowledge of this mastermind’s plans in the local region, hoping to remember the flurry of images she was seeing when her spidey senses started to tingle with Ikrid contacts outside the room she was in.
“Damn it,” she whispered, trying to gleam the current location of the templar then giving up as armed lizards came in and found her kneeling over what looked like their dead superior.
Kara knocked them down with a Fornax field as she sensed hoards more surrounding the chamber. She popped out her forearm weaponry, resealing her armor over her hands, and shot the downed guards with fast firing blips of green energy. She glanced down at the mastermind unconscious beside her feet and considered killing it, but a part of her didn’t want to, given how advanced it was. So out of professional courtesy, and the fact that they’d just grow another, she gave it a swift kick in the abs for all the trouble the lizards had caused, then ran off towards the main entrance where the other lizards were now coming in.
She fought her way through them with relative ease, given the fact that they couldn’t get past her shields, let alone her armor in the small hallways that diminished the number of weapons they could bring to bear on her simultaneously…and then add in the fact that she was knocking most of them down with Fornax blasts before they could even pull the triggers, and she made her way to an exterior room rather quickly.
Kara shot three lizards inside then extruded a different weapon on her right wrist that wrapped around her hand and created a hard circle in her palm. There she produced a small orb of green/white energy as she threw her hand forward towards the intact window as she ran, releasing it a meter prior to impact.
The window vaporized in a flash of energy that also melted the rim around it…then her armored form shot through into the night air, falling a couple of meters under the influence of gravity before she shot off in a straight line like a missile, abandoning stealth in favor of distance and hoping that the alarm the lizards were sounding was contained to just the building behind her and that they hadn’t put the entire city on alert.
Dropping low, she moved down into the city streets, hoping to keep beneath their sensors, and flew Ironman-style right through the lizard infrastructure, moving so fast there was a boom of compressed air whenever she flew past.
Her black form didn’t go unnoticed, and before she’d managed to zigzag a third of the way back towards the city’s edge a repetitive screech sounded throughout the city and a number of blips showed up on her armor’s sensors, indicating that one of their fighter patrols had been pulled in and were angling towards her approximate location.
“Time to dance,” she said, pulling up out of the streets and accelerating into a blur as she hit clean air.
7
“Stay low, stay low,” Kara said as she zipped across the lowest rooftops within the city, bouncing between one canyon-like area to another while avoiding the taller buildings as her armor tagged numerous anti-air batteries scattered across the cityscape.
She’d accelerated up to more than twice what her speed had been flying through the streets, but she still couldn’t take a direct line to the city’s edge without exposing herself…meaning it was a race between her and the fighters moving towards her position, despite the fact that she had her sensor-dampening ‘skin’ on.
Kara was flying so close to their equipment that she knew she was impossible to miss, but get those fighters over her head and a lack of restraint in firing down onto their own city and she’d be in for a world of hurt, for these were just the first few, with new contacts popping up on her sensors from numerous hangars…meaning she had to get out of here fast.
Weaving her way below the firing lines of the anti-air batteries, Kara got halfway out to the city’s edge before the first stunted green plasma lance flashed by her and hit a building ahead, melting into the rooftop.
Instinctively she pulled off to the right, feeling the excess aero drag of her pack underneath her armor coating, but that couldn’t be helped now. A couple more flashes hit behind her, then she pulled a hard left turn and shot off down a row of low buildings with the wisp turning more sluggishly to follow behind her as it leveled off at nearly the same altitude and started firing at her feet.
Kara kept dancing about, all the time keeping under what her armor showed to be the anti-air altitude boundaries that kept changing depending upon what battery she was nearest. That still left her a lot of wiggle room in between the taller buildings, given her small size, but another pair of wisps came up from high overhead and started making strafing runs so they could fire down on her, adding to the green streaks hitting all around her…then one hit her in the shields covering her feet.
“Oh no you didn’t,” Kara said, registering a significant chop in her shield strength just before she flipped over onto her back and put her palms together, forming a green orb that she cradled in both hands as more plasma came her way.
Ignoring it and sighting the wisp behind she sat up a bit, still flying level to the ground and backwards across the building tops as if she was coasting, and stretched her arms out in front of her as she got a mental lock on the target, releasing the energy orb like a bullet popping out of a gun. The glowing ball of light slightly smaller than her head shot back in a straight line and sank into the hull of the lizard fighter, then detonated in a bright puff of confetti that had once been the wisp’s hull.
Kara smiled momentarily, then flipped back over to fly chest down, letting the tiny bits of debris left over from the shredded fighter fall in her wake as she saw more fighters dropping in behind her, as well as some gathering ahead, having predicted her course across the lowest building tops.
Rather than facing them head on she made a detour, cutting close to the edges of lizard structures when she turned, hoping to get lucky and peel off a fighter in the process, but unfortunately their pilots weren’t clumsy enough to run into their own buildings. Some of them went high and wide, while a few others kept on her heels, all the while more were coming in from the periphery and boxing her in at a respectful distance.
Kara could do the basic math in her head and knew time wasn’t on her side, so she tucked her arms in close to her body and eyed the nearest anti-air battery, plotting a course directly underneath it and up out the other side, then she accelerated hard, feeling the air dragging against her shields as she zipped down across building after building until she had no more room to maneuver and it was either slow down and turn or ram into one of the taller ones.
Kara arced up and into what was soon to become a firing range above the city, putting herself through a wide spiral as the anti-air battery that showed up directly behind her spat a slew of plasma shards, each similar in size to the stubby lances the wisps fired, at the shrinking dot that was the armored Human as she tore across the cityscape gradually gaining altitude and speed.
The buildings began to whip by her, with the forest ahead seeming enticingly close, then what looked like the fourth of July broke out ahead of her and the air was filled with plasma shards…with the lizard fighters wisely holding back and letting the city defenses take a swipe at her.
Kara’s only saving grace was her tiny size, because even with her ever increasing speed the batteries were still able to accurately track her. She took a hit early on, then got by most of the short flight to the city edge without incident…then took three hits over the course of 2 seconds that nearly penetrated her shields.
Before she even realized what was happening most of the anti-air fire cut out as she reached the construction ring around the city, with her dropping back down in altitude and skimming the partially constructed buildings to cut out most of the rest…which was when the now swarm of fighters moved back up in pursuit and began taking long distance shots at her, all of which missed initially, but sooner or later they were going to get lucky just through sheer numbers, as there were now well over 200 fighters on or near her tail.
Every second that passed her shields regenerated…far faster than any Star Force shields, or even those of the Kvash, so she dropped low to canopy when she crossed over the boundary from lizard construction sites to forest, trying to use the limited topography to her advantage, but the mountain ranges were a bit further off yet, giving the lizard fighters a large field of yellow trees to fire down upon in the hopes of hitting her, now without having to worry about collateral damage.
The sky around Kara lit up in green, and she took another pair of hits, both grazes, to her arm and leg, but her shields held…then she hit the brakes as fast as her armor could manage and her tiny dot of a body sudden fell back into the lizard fighters and collided with one.
It exploded in a puff of confetti-like debris, then another one nearby did the same…which sent the others into a frenzy, zipping about every which way as they tried to track her movements while avoiding running into each other at the same time.
Kara killed two more of their fighters at pointblank range before accelerating off in a straight line again, leaving them to come to their senses and reform their chase pack, allowing her to get some quick distance. She pressed her acceleration hard, building speed with every second as the air tugged heavily on her shields…which she reformed into a pointed tip to give her a more aerodynamic profile, feeling a sudden rush of speed accompanying it.
The wisps were fast too, and a dozen or so of them began closing on her, but she’d gotten far enough ahead of them to almost be off their sensors. A few wiggles here and there, along with dropping down and literally skimming the treetops, and she was able to subtly veer off their current flight line, which told her she was almost in the clear.
She held her line, letting them get further and further away…then they broke up and went multiple directions, trying to reacquire her signal.
Kara pushed on, getting away from all but two of them who managed to catch a bit of a sensor image and redirect her way with the others turning to follow, lagging far behind. With the mountains just ahead of her Kara kept low and headed for the first jut of terrain popping up from the flat terrain and swung around it, blocking her from their sensors.
Then she began swerving, hopping, and mimicking the ups and downs of the increasingly rough terrain, tricking the fighters into going the wrong direction, only to reacquire her sensor silhouette again. After several minutes of cat and mouse they lost her altogether and she was able to fly deep into the mountains while they pulled up to higher altitude in search mode, now too far away to pick her up while she was sensor dampened.
Kara flew well away from them, curving to the south while they held a westerly vector, then she gently slowed to a stop and ducked down through the yellow forest canopy as the sun was beginning to rise. The branches and leaves scraped against her armor, now that the shields were down, but they didn’t scratch the black material. Like a rock sinking through water, the forest seemed to part for her as she dropped down to the dark interior, with her armor scales returning to their normal red after she confirmed that there were no lizard foot patrols nearby…or giant wildlife.
Kara retracted her armor from her head, pulling in a fresh breath of forest air and almost choking on the moisture. She hadn’t seen it from above, but now that she was down on the ground she realized she was standing in a cloud that had formed below the treetops, covering the area in a thick mist.
She could see just fine with her Pefbar, and otherwise it was still night anyways, or would be for a few more minutes. She took in several breaths, getting used to the vapor, then looked around with her second sight, finding the nearest ridgeline. Retracting her armor all the way back into her forearm jewel, Kara hiked up the hillside and found a small, level spot on top where she pulled her pack off and sat down, resting against one of the massive trees.
“Well that’s done,” she whispered to the not so quiet forest, for there were chirps and creaks galore. “Don’t suppose they’ll settle down soon enough for me to go back and have a chat with the templar, so I guess it’s down to camping out the next few days.”
Kara didn’t like that at all…the idea of just sitting and doing nothing. So after a couple of hours to let the wisps get bored with looking for her, she ate a snack and pulled her pack on, then headed down the opposite hillside on foot, managing a decent paced run without slipping and falling on her face on the way down to the bottom of the ravine. Once there it leveled out enough for her to make a go at a cross country run, for no other reason than to give her something to do and to keep her body from stagnating in lieu of the workouts she was missing.
So Kara ran and rested the remaining days until her pickup was scheduled to arrive. When the countdown in her armor was getting close, she pulled her pack off and dropped it on the forest floor, glad to be free of its weight. With a mental twitch her scale-like armor reformed over her body and she summoned up another green orb that she used to blast apart her pack, leaving only bits and pieces of debris along with a hole in the dirt, a lot of which had sprayed up on her in the explosion.
She shook and it fell off, cascading back to the ground as the construction of her armor resisted the grime. Now clean and lighter, she started mentally plotting the rendezvous point in orbit, adjusting for her current position and expected flight path…which told her she had another 22 minutes and 18 seconds to wait.
Kara hopped up into the treetops and perched herself on a branch tall enough that she could look out through the leaves into the sky. Off in the distance she could see the edge of the lizard city, but it was far from her current position and the anti-air weaponry was well out of range. Some of the other defensive weapons weren’t, but there was no way other than sheer luck that they’d be able to hit a moving target as small as her, even if they could pick up her sensor-stealthed armor.
Forcing patience, Kara waited until the timer counted down to 00:00, then she jumped out through the leaves and flew through a sharp arc heading straight up into the air for a few kilometers before pulling back into an angle that gave her both height and lateral distance as she needed to accelerate up past orbital speeds to make her rendezvous, which even now should have been pushing past the lizard defense ships on a high speed approach to extreme low orbit.
With her sensors in stealth mode she couldn’t pick it or most of the lizard warships or stations up as she ascended, so she had to rely on position data alone…but when she reached the upper atmosphere the target materialized on her passive sensors, along with the lizard ships racing to catch it.
They weren’t going to, for the cutter had apparently got the jump on them again. It was moving too fast for them to overtake, but it did have to slow down somewhat for Kara to rendezvous with it, meaning it had to have a gap on the enemy whereas upon delivery it hadn’t. That said, it did have an ample head start on the pursuit, so as long as Kara could get up to speed and meet it at the proper height and time there shouldn’t be a problem.
Such a hot pickup was extremely complicated, but the math was easy enough for her armor’s computing systems. It gave her the appropriate vector, speed, and timing she needed to make the intercept, so as long as she followed the prompts she didn’t have to concern herself with anything else.
And that’s just what she did. Using the anti-grav in her armor she rose up above the atmosphere, gaining more and more lateral speed until the cutter was only 100 kilometers behind her and closing fast, at an altitude 2 kilometers above and on almost the exact same directional heading. Following her navigational prompts she continued to accelerate as it went through its own braking maneuver and the closing speed dropped smoothly.
When it got within 5 kilometers their speed differential had almost nulled out, allowing Kara ample time to get the proper altitude and wait beneath where the cutter would come across. With the lizard ships visible on her now active radar, she flew off the tracking program directly over to the cutter who’d entered a coasting phase rather than braking as it dipped down towards the atmosphere on a trajectory that would not sustain orbit, for both it and now Kara were moving too fast laterally to maintain a natural orbit, and only she could maintain an unnatural one, meaning the cutter was going to be leaving the planet one way or another when it bounced off the atmosphere, giving her only a brief window of opportunity to get aboard.
As she approached she confirmed that the drone warship’s shields were down, then she came up underneath it and latched onto the smooth hull with her adhesive grips, locking her toes, knees, and hands to the hull before signaling to the computer-controlled ship that she was aboard.
With that prompt the cutter altered its course prematurely and missed the atmosphere entirely, pushing off against the gravity well fiercely as it made a microjump away from the planet, shooting through the lizard orbital infrastructure and fleet and heading off towards high orbit without Kara feeling any of the acceleration now that she was safely inside the extended inertial dampening field of the drone.
From her perspective everything was still and her grip on the ship was almost unnecessary…but float up a meter or so and that’d change greatly, so she kept herself tucked low to the hull and rode the warship out away from the lizard planet as it pushed against neighboring gravity wells to get some course and speed adjustments enroute to a rendezvous in extreme high orbit where the jumpship was passing by.
Both ships had lizards tracking them, with the jumpship only having returned to planetary orbit a few hours ago. It had been hiding elsewhere in the system until the appropriate time, now it was making an orbital insertion to pick up the cutter, much as the cutter had to pick up Kara, only on a greatly exaggerated scale.
With the lizard fleet closing from a distance, Kara rode the cutter up to the jumpship then leapt off as it maneuvered to slide back into its parking slot alongside the other drones this warship/cargoship hybrid was carrying. Where half of the normal drone ship complement would have been were interior cargo bays, one of which Kara flew to, arcing her way through open space as if she were Ironman, completely independent of gravitational physics.
Her armor produced no physical thrust, as the drone was having to do in order to align itself with the docking slot, but she was still able to curve her way around the hull and fly into one of the open bays, passing through the containment field and into the ship’s artificial gravity, which her suit was then able to push off of for flight dynamics. Kara flew halfway across the bay and came down midway into an open area of the deck, dropping into a smooth walk and peeling off her armor by the third step as she casually strode across the hangar as if she’d been there all along.
With her inside, the bay doors closed and she headed over to a comm terminal, informing the bridge that she was aboard so they could micro-jump out of planetary orbit as soon as possible. After that it was a short rendezvous with the system’s central star, then the beginning of a 3 month zigzaggy trip across multiple star systems back to Namek, where she was going to have that long chat with Paul on Star Force’s strategy against the lizards.
8
October 8, 2432
Retari System
Atlantica
Kyler watched from the bridge of the Black Pearl as it floated its way across the sky looking down on the world-spanning ocean. The churning water ahead was finally settling down, which prompted one of dozens of skeets circling far overhead to make a diving run towards the surface and release another warhead.
It fell straight and cleanly entered the choppy waves as the fighter pulled off. Underneath the surface the turbulence was stiff, but the lengthy torpedo steered a course through it, dropping down towards the seafloor where a carpet of plants covered the watery landscape.
Except they weren’t plants, but rather tower-sized lizard defense tendrils, copied from Elarioni tech and produced in massive numbers to protect the subsurface base set beneath. They had similar defense tendrils at their other bases, but nowhere near this number. With the battleships’ shield columns they could take out the tendrils one by one, but it was a slow process, and given how many were situated below it would take days at minimum to break through, if not weeks.
There was also a huge lizard aquatics fleet below, swimming in and around the tendrils ready to strike out at any Human fleet that dared to hit the base. Kyler knew it would be a nasty fight, even with all 9 of their battleships committed, so he’d decided to change the game and hit them from the air, keeping his fleet right next door but out of the water and out of both the tendrils’ and lizard ships’ reach.
The wreck of a lizard cruiser and dozens of wisps lay on the seafloor now, with the wisps having come from carrier ships that rose up to the surface, but neither they nor the starship were a match for 9 battleships, even if they were in airship mode. Their maulers had torn the cruiser into shreds with only the Triton taking damage in the fighting.
It was patching itself up at the moment, still holding its anti-grav hover over the ocean as the battleships moved into position over the city that the skeets had been bombing for some time now. The most recent torpedo followed the track of the others, heading straight down into the mess of defense tendrils and detonating against one of them…taking out 6 of the huge constructs with the resulting blast/concussion wave.
The bomb wasn’t a nuke, but rather something far more powerful…powerful enough to push around an enormous amount of water and turn it into a weapon of its own, for while 6 of the intact tendrils were ripped apart, many more were damaged, leaving yet another wide crater of damage on the tendril carpet below.
The lizard fleet had thus scattered rather than risk getting caught up in the blasts, having retreated within the base itself or scurried off to the fringes, passing beyond the boundaries of the tendril field and putting as much distance between them and the bombing as possible. Star Force rarely used bombs, preferring more surgical strikes, but that didn’t mean they didn’t make them nor knew how to use them, which the lizards were learning the hard way right now.
Kyler was glad to see it was working, having half expect them to have some surprise defense against the attack, but aside from the almost panicky cruiser/wisp counterstrike the enemy hadn’t been able to touch them above the water and now looked to be on the defensive, though for how long that would last he didn’t know.
A massive bulge in the ocean rose up like a dome beneath the battleships, then sank back down into a depression with the walls of water rolling in and twisting about in a violent vortex as the liquid water and flash vaporized gasses sorted themselves out chaotically. Once the ocean settled down the skeets dropped another bomb at a slightly different location, mowing the grass, so to speak, on the seafloor below one strike at a time.
The craft carried only one torpedo each, and after the drop each skeet took off heading for the upper atmosphere and the long trip back to Seaquest, the nearest Star Force city, some 2,490 kilometers away. They had more than enough fuel to get there, but it was a long turnaround to get reloaded and fly back out, which was why Kyler had planned on only the one assault, having assigned multiple flights of skeets to accompany the battleships out so he’d have all the ordinance he’d need on hand.
“No response to communications,” Captain Voru said, stepping up beside Kyler as he looked at one of the video screens of the ship’s exterior. “Looks like they want us to come down and get them the hard way.”
“In time, Captain. Let’s see how many of their toys we can break first.”
Voru cleared his throat. “We could take the opportunity, while we wait, to eliminate some of their fleet, given how scattered they are right now.”
“You won’t get many unless they turn and fight.”
“Why not take a few now when we can?”
Kyler sighed. “Alright, but I don’t want any of the ships near the shockwaves. What targets do we have furthest out?”
“The Waverunner is currently tracking a small group that got clear before the first blast…they appear to be undamaged and holding close formation. They should be able to drop on top of them and kill or disable half of the ships before they can flee outside plasma range.”
“Save the squids,” Kyler ordered, “then tell them happy hunting. What else do you have?” he asked, knowing Voru already had a plan of attack in place before he’d brought it up for discussion.
“Four other groups well outside of the blast range, none of which are a match for one battleship.”
“Dispatch four of the others, but keep us here.”
Voru nodded, then walked off leaving Kyler next to the vid screen. He was right about taking the opportunity to eliminate some of their ships before they saw them again on another battlefront, but Kyler wasn’t wholly convinced that Star Force had the upper hand here. If events continued to follow form it appeared that he’d found their achilles heel…but that just didn’t feel right, especially given all the tactical headaches this smart lizard had been giving him and Paul.
He watched as another torpedo dropped and swam its way down to the tendrils, blasting more apart and pushing the water surrounding them back so far it formed a huge void that caused the surrounding water to vaporize due to the nonexistent pressure once it began to collapse. That bubbled the new air up through the debris in a pyre that marked the detonation point on the holographic battlemap beside him, with only a small amount of the destructive energy reaching the surface to be seen on the exterior cameras.
A few more drops and they’d be clear to head down themselves and begin taking out the tendrils around the entrances to the base, of which there were many. This main base of theirs had been under surveillance for quite a while now, even as Star Force hit and destroyed the smaller ones scattered around the ocean closer to their own cities. Once they’d gotten their first breadcrumb of a trace, they’d followed it to a transitional base, and from there out to several others.
One find led to another, eventually leading them here, to a mid-level section of the ocean deeper than the Star Force cities were located at, but shallower than the great depths where neither side seemed inclined to go just yet. Kyler had been keeping their strikes conservative, focusing on disrupting the lizards’ growth rather than seriously cutting into their numbers as he forced most of his resources on repairing the damage done to Manaan and building more battleships, which he knew was the key to their victory, for the lizards had no viable counterpart as of yet.
Their surveillance of this base had indicated multiple shipyards somewhere beneath the tendrils, for resources would come in and new ships would come out. How many lizard ground troops were down there was unknown, as was the actual size of the base, but the tendril field covered over 130 square miles and massed more than all three Star Force cities combined, having consumed an enormous amount of resources to build…which suggested that whatever was beneath it was vitally important to the lizards’ operations on Atlantica.
Which was why Kyler didn’t feel confident about the bombardment, nor his 9 battleships being enough to take this mega base out, but so far he hadn’t seen any brilliant masterstroke on the part of the lizards to combat them…but then again, they weren’t in the water yet either.
Then one of the bombs took out a section of tendrils, simultaneously breaching what looked to be a concealed entrance to the base, giving the sensors onboard the Black Pearl a good view of a very wide shaft heading straight down into the bedrock. No massive amount of air came up from the site, meaning it had already been submerged…probably a navigational tube, suggesting the base itself wasn’t right beneath the tendrils, but buried deep underground where the bombardment couldn’t follow.
“Captain, redirect the next torpedo on this shaft and run a telemetry feed up here.”
“Shaking the beehive, aye,” Voru acknowledged as one of the vid screens switched over from ‘window’ mode to the perspective of the torpedo, still hanging underneath a skeet with the craft just visible in camera on top.
When the skeet moved into its diving run the ocean appeared, then the torpedo detached and fell straight through the waves, quivering a bit as its engines fought the turbulence of the last explosion, but it maintained its course down to the crater and sank to a lower depth than the others had, now that there were no tendrils blocking the way.
It passed through the broken concealment doors and into the shaft, with the camera view having to switch to computer enhanced imagery due to the lack of light at that depth, despite the glows being cast from the intact tendrils that looked like a field of ugly Christmas trees. Inside the rectangular tube there was nothing to see for some time, then the architecture made a turn and shallowed out, running lateral a bit before coming up to another set of closed doors that it detonated against.
The feed cut out, and there was a delayed reaction before a tiny bit of turbulence made its way up to the ocean surface, with the lizard passageway acting like a squirt gun to direct the blast straight up rather than out spherically, allowing it to reach all the way back to the surface, carrying a lot of tendril debris with it that arced over and drifted back down into the field.
Kyler kept staring at the ‘signal end’ message on the vid screen, chewing on his fingernail as it switched back to an external view.
“So that’s how it’s going to be then,” he whispered, seeing his easy assault just get a lot more complicated. The lizards were burrowed in good and deep, meaning that Star Force was going to have to go down through predictable entrances and engage them at places of their choosing…and who knew what was waiting for them down there.
“What’s the width on that passageway?”
“Widest point is 580 meters,” Voru answered a moment later.
Kyler nodded. “So they can come in and out, but our battleships can’t.”
“It appears that way, though our squids will have no problem.”
Kyler shook his head. “We’re not playing their game. I’d bet our mastermind is down there, and he can stay all comfy and incommunicado until he’s ready to come out. Begin a search for comm lines, buoys, transmitters, and signals. I want this place under blackout…or whiteout if necessary. We can build jammers if we have to, let’s just make sure they haven’t got any buried lines that can circumvent it.”
“We’ll need to be in the water for a tight scan…and I suggest we use the squids to maximize our coverage area.”
“Put a hold on that. Direct the rest of the torpedoes to the likely entrances and peel off as many tendrils as we can. I don’t want the lizards sneaking out once we submerge.”
“No guarantee we’ll get them all, given the size of the field,” Voru cautioned.
“We’ll disassemble the rest with the battleships.”
Voru raised an eyebrow. “That will take some time,” he understated.
“No rush,” Kyler said offhand.
The Captain smiled. “And no resupply for the lizards in the mean time?”
“Not here anyway.”
“Where do you want the Pearl?”
“As soon as the water calms down I want us over the big entrance…and a probe sent down inside to see what damage we did. Have the rest of the battleships go hunting. If their fleet hasn’t already gotten out of sensor range, see that they don’t live to learn from their mistake.”
The tiny probe jetted its way out from the underside of the Black Pearl, arcing over into a dive that brought it down through the water towards the broken entry doors as multiple blue lances flashed around it as the battleship targeted the closest defense tendrils with its shield columns and delivered plasma blasts down the waterless conduits to their targets.
The man-sized probe eventually got low enough that the debris shrouded its view of the tendrils under attack, then the camera angles were consumed by the interior of the rectangular tube. The probe continued straight down for quite a ways before it encountered any floating debris, then the remote pilot in the Black Pearl slowed it down and zigzagged its way through until it came to the turn. It paused there briefly, receiving new programming, then pushed on, with the control signal from the battleship weakening the further in it got, given that it couldn’t pass through the solid rock.
The camera signal returning to the battleship eventually disappeared as well, with Kyler waiting nearly half an hour before contact was remade and a data dump of data flooded back up to the Pearl. As the bridge crew deciphered the sensor data a holographic map began to form, drawing Kyler’s attention away from the ‘window’ that showed the ongoing tendril destruction.
The doors to the passageway had been destroyed, along with chunks of the rim that led into a massive underwater chamber that was clogged with ships…some intact and others damaged or destroyed. Kyler knew instantly that this was one of the lizard shipyards, even before the construction slips were displayed, attached to the rocky walls.
Connecting tunnels exited out four other points around the large chamber, but the probe hadn’t ventured down any of them. Instead it had explored the intricate lattice work of cargo modules that had been cracked open and warped by the explosion, meaning the computer had wasted most of its scanning time nudging its way through a maze of junk.
That was the downside of computers…they could only do what they were programmed to, unable to improvise where a person easily would, but at least the wasted time had kept it away from the active lizard ships in the chamber, allowing the probe to survive long enough to return to them with the data it had.
“Your thoughts, Captain?”
Voru rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “All that debris would make for a chaotic battlefield, giving more value to the nimbler ships. I’d recommend shipping in another load of tactical torpedoes and shoving them in there rather than going in with ships. I’d still give us the advantage if we brought enough forces to bear, but it’d get really messy and we’d lose a lot taking it. I also don’t like those connecting passageways. We have no idea of how many more ships they have to reinforce this chamber with.”
Kyler pointed to several points on the ever growing map near the entrance.
“No to the torpedoes. They’re erecting minnow launchers. They’ll take them out before they could breach the interior.”
Voru frowned. “They do learn fast. We could still use one, detonated prematurely, to push those defenses out of position with the blast wave, then send a second before they could get them realigned.”
“Some potential there,” Kyler granted him, “but I don’t want to fight their fleet without the battleships. We bring them out to us.”
“And if they don’t feel like it?”
“This base is neutralized one way or another while we take the fight to the others. For now we need to focus on getting this entire tendril field cleared.”
“Permission to use our onboard ordinance?”
“Denied. I still don’t trust the lizards not to have an ace up their sleeve. Be patient and use plasma only. The next move is theirs. If they feel like sitting on their hands then we’ll systematically take down the field with our only losses being plasma and power. Time is our ally in this…let’s make the most of it.”
9
October 19, 2432
Retari System
Atlantica
Kyler ran through Manaan’s interior corridors, bouncing in and out of people walking by as he shot his way towards the command level, then when he finally got there he bypassed all of the staff and ran across to the command nexus and logged in with a quick touch to the Ikrid sphere, bringing up the systems in a hurry.
The holographic map of the planet shrunk down and highlighted the location where his battleships were still working their way through the lizard defense tendril field, having cleared more than 60% of it and revealing 5 different entrances to the subsurface base…but that wasn’t why he was in a rush. It was the plume of lizard aquatics ships coming up out of one of the entrances that his fleet hadn’t gotten to yet that had prompted a quick comm call from his staff that had pulled him out of Balboa Lane.
There had only been so many hours he could keep himself from going crazy using the Black Pearl’s treadmill and other limited training equipment, so after it was clear that there wasn’t going to be a massive battle for control of the lizard base, he’d called for a dropship to come pick him up and return him to the city while Voru and the other Captains went about their work clearing the field. Apparently the lizards didn’t like the idea of all their entrances being exposed, so they were now coming out to engage the Star Force fleet while they still had some tendril defenses left to aid them.
But it only took a quick look from Kyler to see that the lizards weren’t engaging the battleships…they were running, while using part of their fleet as a sacrificial distraction, hoping to draw the battleships in to the tendrils.
Using the nexus controls the trailblazer set up a no-go line on the hologram, indicating that the battleships shouldn’t press any closer in towards the tendrils, even if the lizards withdrew into them…which they were doing, making it almost impossible for the battleships to get a straight shot at them, because the tendrils would sway and snap the shield columns before they could fire on the ships.
That left hundreds of lizard light cruisers and frigates with cover to fire their torpedoes and minnows out of the tendril field against the closest battleships, covering their shields in a flurry of impacts that their point defenses were allowing through. The battleships wisely let some hit the shields, knowing that they could absorb the gnat-like blows while saving PDMs for later, but that was only going to lengthen the engagement, for there were so many lizard weapons coming their way that there was no way they were going to be able to keep shooting them down, at which point they’d be forced to retreat or advance into the field where they could not go.
The Highwind and Nautilus maneuvered up to the surface, then over top the field so they could fire down directly on top of the tendrils, hoping to aim through the gaps between them…but the large moving strands of what looked like living machinery bent over to provide cover, not allowing the vertical shield columns any more luck at reaching the ships nestled below the tendrils, which glowed with thousands of plasma nubs that would wreak havoc on anything that they came into physical contact with.
The lizard ships were immune, however, and the tendrils knew not to brush up against them, even turning off the plasma nubs nearest to their hulls so there would be no accidental grazes…all the while more torpedoes and the slightly smaller minnows kept swimming out and hammering the battleships in a lengthy torrent, which the larger ships more or less shrugged off, though they couldn’t keep that up forever and Kyler knew it.
Now would have been a perfect opportunity to use a tactical torpedo…had they any left. He guessed the lizards had waited until they were fairly sure that Star Force had expended all they had before launching this counterattack, for the turbulence alone from a detonation would have knocked their ships into the tendrils, effectively using their own defenses against them in one masterstroke of a blow. And even if the tendrils deactivated in time the ships would still receive hull damage from the collisions and the concussion of the blast.
But no, Kyler had used all of them to take out the tendrils as fast as possible, and even if he had pulled more out of storage in Seaquest there was no way to get them here in time, for the lizard ships were continuing to come out and saturate the tendril field, all the while part of them shot off in a straight line away from the battleships, making a run for the edge of their sensor range while the others kept up the torpedo barrages.
Kyler immediately tagged two of the nine battleships with orders to go after the fleeing ships, and a few seconds later they almost synchronously started to rise up towards the surface, knowing that they could travel farther and faster in air than the lizards could underwater. The trick was in keeping them in sensor range, and scanning from the air down into the water was more problematic than scanning through water only.
Even as he gave the order Kyler suspected it was what the lizards expected him to do, so he waited and watched…then he saw another strand of ships come up from a second hidden entrance and shoot off a different direction while more and more came up the first one and added additional torpedoes to the attack on the closest battleships.
Kyler knew the lizards…no, the mastermind lizard…was trying to divide the battleships up and he was succeeding, but was it doing it to whittle them down and hope to win a battle, or as a diversion while something made a run for it? With the sacrificial nature of lizard war tactics he didn’t expect the boss lizard to be trying to save his own skin, but they were definitely not making a random push, meaning they had an objective in play. Now what was it?
As Kyler watched the escaping convoys of ships stretching out like fingers his gut collapsed into a cramp as he had a thought, then he zoomed the map out a bit and saw the ends of the lizards’ communication relay network that Star Force had cut the base off from, and the fact that the ships were heading directly for them…meaning the mastermind would be able to relay signals through the line of ships and out to the intact infrastructure, giving it the ability to both send and receive messages for at least a brief period of time.
Kyler knew that wasn’t the main reason they were fleeing, just a side benefit. It was clear that the lizards didn’t feel like they could hold the base so long as Star Force didn’t feel like trying to fight it out inside, and rather be neutralized by a siege they would prefer running and…doing what?
Even as he formed the mental question he knew the answer. Their mastermind would pull a Thrawn and devise a better defensive system than the tendrils alone, after scattering their fleet across the planet where Star Force could only get at a few of them…essentially resetting the game with a disadvantage of resources, but with an ocean of anonymity to hide within, letting the lizards hold out and play for the long term, perhaps hoping for a reversal in orbit.
Kyler didn’t want to let that many of them get away, and he had no idea where the mastermind was, let alone how to confirm they’d found it if they ever did, so he opened a comm line out to the Black Pearl in lieu of typing out orders and got Voru’s hologram in response.
“Sorry you’re missing all the fun,” the Captain commented.
“Deploy squids down the cleared tunnel entrances,” Kyler said quickly, knowing they had little time to waste. “Use a handful at the junctions for relays and scouts down to probe for booby-traps and defenses…then push through en mass and flank these bastards from inside.”
Voru’s eyes narrowed quickly, then eased back open as he comprehended what the Archon was saying. “With pleasure.”
Kyler cut the hologram off and returned his main view to the battlemap, which was being relayed from the battleships on site through an aerial buoy floating on anti-grav above the ocean, allowing it to transmit through the air back to their cities rather than trying to do so through underwater relays. Before the lizards had knocked down any such vulnerable objects with their air power, but now that it had diminished to almost nothing Kyler had gotten more bold and started to reset the aerial relay grid, with a special buoy having been brought with the battleships to this location to allow them all to submerge and still stay in contact with the rest of the planet.
It was his only link to his ships on the battlefield so long as they were all underwater, just as the line of fleeing ships was about to give the mastermind its link to its underwater grid, allowing it to organize in the same way…though there couldn’t have been enough ships nearby to call for aid, so whatever it intended it probably didn’t have to do with this battle, and launching a simultaneous assault elsewhere was nearly futile, given that it would only take a handful of hours for the battleships to relocate via air to wherever needed within Star Force territory.
Kyler knew it had something up its sleeve, but right now he couldn’t do anything about it.
The first of the squids were popping out of the battleships on his battlemap now, reminding him that even if the lizards had some side objectives going, they were at the disadvantage here and he needed to push for as many gains as he could get before they had a chance to regroup.
He switched over to binary view, with the battlemap shifted to his left and the right side of the nexus’s holographic display becoming the first person view of one of the squids heading for a descending tunnel around which all the defensive tendrils were gone. It zipped down the passageway at decent speed, then came up against a wall of torpedoes and the signal dropped out.
Kyler pulled up another squid, this one further back in line, and saw a hoard of the remote-controlled aquatics craft rushing forward to overcome the torpedo launchers with sheer numbers. The first few soaked up a lot of hits, churning the water about chaotically within the tube, but as much as that affected the squids it also buffeted around the torpedo launchers at the far end.
Like a football running back pushing through blockers and the defensive line, the squid Kyler was watching through got past the debris and came up on one of the blocky launchers that looked like it was part of a frigate that hadn’t been fully assembled, probably pulled from their construction facilities and repurposed for use here.
Whatever its origins, Kyler’s squid latched onto it with its four gigantic arms, gripping it so tight it left grooves in the hull as the drone extended a short shield column out from its ‘mouth’ and poured plasma into the torpedo launcher multiple times…then the explosives must have been hit, for the entire assembly exploded, taking the squid with it.
Kyler shifted view over to another, and followed it in past where the impromptu defenses had been laid out and inside a much cleaner chamber than Kyler had seen at the previous entry passage that they’d sent the probe down. There was no floating debris here, but rather an almost completely empty sphere of water with construction slips around the periphery. A few lizard ships remained, and Kyler could see other squids go after them while his and the main body pushed on through the chamber towards one of the side tunnels.
When it ducked in, Kyler could see that it was the same width and shape as the external shaft, but not nearly as long, for it opened up into a much smaller chamber that reminded him of a parking lot with a large building attached, having been dug into the rock face. With nothing there to attack the squids pushed on through to the far side and back into another tunnel, with the battlemap updating and expanding as they and other squid groups worked their way through the other entrances…all of which were headed towards the intact region of the tendril field where the enemy fleet was coming out of.
Eventually Kyler’s squid, being piloted by a crewer onboard the Loch Ness, came out into a chamber that was not deserted…at all. It was packed full of warships, apparently having been pulled from other areas of the base and awaiting their turn to go up the shaft in the ceiling and exit through the tendril field.
The trailblazer almost blanched when he saw how many they had built, then his squid accelerated in behind another trio of the drones and headed for a lizard destroyer, bypassing a host of smaller ships and sharks. As he watched the arms, which had been clenched together into a rough arrowhead shape for maneuvering efficiency, split apart just before it rammed into the whale-like hull and grabbed hold.
Kyler’s holographic screen was filled with hull as it extended its shield column out and started hammering through the lizard hull with blue plasma strikes. He watched it break through and begin slagging internal components, then just as he was about to switch to another squid he saw his get hit by minnow strikes that took down its shields.
He pulled back from the camera view and went straight to battlemap, seeing swarms of the sharks hammering the squids that had attached to the large ships, all the while more of the Star Force craft were pouring out of the connecting tunnel into the already crowded chamber. It was the equivalent of two boxers being shoved into a phone booth with each other and trying to go at it with only inches of separation, with chaos ensuing.
Kyler started tagging targets, trying to get his team organized while the lizards panicked and shot at anything that moved. First thing he did was mark the destroyers and cruisers as non-primary targets while putting the most emphasis on the frigates, which carried a disproportionate amount of the lizard’s torpedoes. The larger ships had more and stronger versions, but using them was doing as much damage to their own fleet as it was the squids, so Kyler wanted to trim down the enemy’s precision weapons, given that with the forming debris field the bigger ones would have a hard time getting to their targets.
The sharks were too fast to easily target, but thanks to the less than amicable moving options the squids were able to catch some of them, not even bothering to hit them with plasma and merely crushing them with their arms…which also helped to keep from detonating their onboard minnows, or rather what they hadn’t already fired off.
As the melee ensued, the nearest sharks quickly ran out of ammunition, allowing the incoming squids more freedom of movement. The lizard light destroyers, amazingly, had put up their defense trees, looking like swollen puff balls trying to block what little room there was in the water and getting a mess of debris in their defensive netting as a result. That said, they were spitting out hoards of minnows, with the squids hard pressed to get at them through their strands.
Kyler ordered them to just ignore them and focus on other targets, namely the frigates and the now pesky corvettes that were clamping down and crushing the squids as they held onto other targets. Meanwhile the portion of the lizard fleet that was situated away from the entrance the squids were coming through either held position or moved around a bit trying to get into a position where they could engage the enemy…if they could only get past all the others in the way, plus the debris.
Most of the lizard fleet kept siphoning out the shaft to the surface, but it was so narrow and the fleet so big that it was like trying to sip up a gallon of water through a single straw…all the while the carnage of the squids was eating into the lizard numbers at a considerable rate, with every drone destroyed being replaced by more coming through from behind.
Kyler switched battlefields and saw a similar engagement occurring in another chamber, thought that area was only half as congested, with more conventional warfare ensuing. Two other engagements had also broken out, with a third just starting as the other groups of squids rushed through the lizard base in search of targets, and found plenty.
He knew most, if not all of the squids were going to be lost, but that was acceptable, given that they were unmanned and expendable. The trailblazer didn’t like losing assets in this way, because he knew there were cleaner ways to fight, but time was of the essence and if he had his forces pull back and engage tactically more lizard ships would get out and away, so he did what he could organizing and pushed the fight hard into their fleets, racking up as much damage as possible.
Kyler pulled back out to the master battlemap of the engagement, seeing the battleships taking hull damage from the ongoing torpedo impacts, but none of them were in serious damage. They’d been built to take a beating and keep on fighting, plus they were returning torpedoes for torpedoes, given that their shield columns were proving ineffective in the tendril field.
Kyler half smirked, then typed out a message to Voru, reminding him that this was why wasting ordinance on the tendrils would have been a bad idea earlier.
A minute passed, then a pithy response came back, also in text.
Savvy.
10
November 12, 2432
Nevarsor System
Namek
Paul watched as the lizard aquatics fleet fled their underwater base, amazed at how many ships they had managed to build and content with the number that Kyler was knocking down, both with the battleships up top and the squid armada he’d sent around through the back door. Many got away, slowly moving off in groups on various headings, some of which a few of the battleships were intersecting and poaching, but with thousands of ships to hit there was no way they could contain them, and the lines began arching away from the splash down points, with the battleships’ shield columns stretching out to hit whatever they could before they fully scattered.
Using the control pedestal in the command nexus, Paul fast forwarded through the long battle, pausing occasionally to see a specific item or encounter, including some ships that hadn’t been on their lizard list before, though they didn’t appear to be warships. A lot of transports had been holed up in the base as well, and most of those had gotten away as the battleships focused their firepower on the armed lizard ships, knowing they were the true threat, not just in the here and now, but down the road as well.
Eventually the streams of escaping ships coming up from the tendril field thinned out, then a few squids emerged, marking the end of the line as they pursued the last of the lizard ships out from the base. Paul immediately knew that was a mistake, and watched as the nearby tendrils bent over and brushed up against the squids, detonating their plasma nubs against their hulls and blowing them into bits while the lizard ships moved harmlessly through the field.
After a quick learning moment the remote pilots stopped bringing the squids up and that ended the majority of the fighting. The battleships still sniped at what ships they could, but the lines quickly filed away from the tendril field and base, leaving it in Kyler’s hands as they ran off to who knows where. Fortunately the battleship Captains were smart enough to drop probes and have them follow the lizards at a distance until their limited fuel supply ran out, but it was enough to establish general headings after they left the battleships’ sensor range.
From those vectors, Kyler noted, they were exposing more lizard infrastructure, but none as large as the base they’d just taken, with his fellow trailblazer suggesting that they may very well have just broken the back of the lizard operations on the planet, assuming they weren’t going to get any more supplies from offworld.
Along with his battle reports was a thorough analysis of the base, which Kyler indicated they were going to repurpose for their own uses. The tendril field was coming down, given that they were still live and self-powered, and Paul had to admit the technology, stolen as it was from the Elarioni, was impressive. Its ability to discriminate between friend and foe alone made it a significant threat, given that simply by navigating through the field a lizard ship could use it for either offense or defense, and not have to coordinate at all. It was completely automatic, and Paul appreciated that sort of defensive technology.
Given the lag on these reports, Paul guessed that the field had already been destroyed, though he doubted cleanup would be complete any time soon, given how many tendrils the lizards had built. It put their own construction efforts to shame, as well as backing up Kara’s report of them being master builders that had only been toying with the Humans and the Alliance to date…though they did appear to be at a disadvantage as far as gathering resources underwater.
That was something he wanted to take up with Kyler the next time they met, for if they could get a foothold on aquatics warfare they might be able to press the advantage on other worlds that were part land, part ocean. As a rule, the lizards didn’t like to take worlds that were fully ocean, with Atlantica being an exception, so the trick would be in keeping their land forces from resupplying their aquatics…or maybe even using the aquatics to draw off resources from their land bases?
It was definitely an angle to pursue, but that was a conversation that was going to have to occur in bits and pieces over messages for the time being, for Kyler still had a lot of lizard opposition to hunt down and eradicate, even if they had lost their primary base. Paul wondered if the mastermind had gotten out on one of the ships, and figured that he’d give the scale head the benefit of the doubt. It would use what bases and ships it had, which was still a lot of the latter, to wage a convincing war against the Humans, but both Kyler and Paul felt like they had just turned a major corner, and that Atlantica was now theirs to lose rather than the even playing field it had once been.
After Paul finished going through the battle records and other data he shut down the command nexus and headed out into the city to inspect some of the new construction personally. It wasn’t something he had to do, but he liked being able to overlay virtual maps with actual memories of the layouts. After all, it wouldn’t do for him to design and build a huge city and never to see more than a handful of buildings inside of it.
He hopped inside one of the nearby elevators and took it down below ground level, then walked a short distance until he came to the terminal of the underground rail network. From there he took a small tram out to the dirt ring that isolated the core of the city and came up inside one of the mech bays where he got into a Starbright-class mech and walked it out onto the city streets.
Its body was thin with a T-shaped shoulder frame and no head. Its legs were normal jointed and computer controlled, unlike the neo he usually piloted in both simulators and reality. The starbright was a Star Force original mech, rather than one patterned after the Battletech fiction from long ago. It felt to Paul like a walking turret, but it moved nimbly and that was the point. It wasn’t the largest mech Star Force fielded, nor the smallest, but it was one that was totally dependent on plasma weaponry, hence the name, and it had several unique varieties of weapons.
Paul wouldn’t be needing those today, for he was just on tour ‘driving’ it down the streets that were used to mech traffic as much as vehicles. It was a long walk out to the city’s outskirts, but once he got there the turret-like vantage point was worthwhile and he spent the better part of an hour nosing around the construction and excavation equipment, almost blending in with the fabrication mechs that were lifting and holding components in place while an army of workers buzzed around them making connections and hard seals to lock the new pieces into the frameworks.
The trailblazer knew how to observe yet stay out of their way, and he was so preoccupied with the construction efforts that he didn’t notice another military grade mech approaching until it was within 100 meters of him off his back quarter. The ID tag registered as Emily-023.
Paul opened a comm line. “When the hell did you get back?”
“Nice to see you too,” she replied from the cockpit of a hunchback, which stood slightly lower than his starbright. “About 2 hours ago.”
“And you just felt like taking a stroll?”
“I know better than to interrupt your Grand Admiral thing unless something is urgent, so I figured I’d just join you out here and fill you in.”
“Right, so how are the Ents?”
“Bigger than our mechs…and now allies, thank you very much.”
“Bigger?” Paul reiterated.
“Half again,” Emily explained. “And they’re not plants.”
“I figured that much. What’s their situation?”
“Lizards had a small presence on the planet, almost like they were fighting them just to study them and learn new ways to fight beings of that size. I smashed their bases from orbit and the survivors scattered, so I don’t know if we did enough or not, but the Ikrotor are in no immediate danger and are very grateful. We’re going to take stewardship of their planet via orbit in exchange for natural resources, which means building at least 1 seda and having a small fleet stationed there permanently.”
“What kind of resources?” Paul asked, curious as to what she’d negotiated for.
“Lots of things…including some massive deposits of corovon that they have no use for.”
“Jackpot.”
“No kidding. Last I checked our stockpiles were getting low.”
“We’re always running low,” Paul pointed out, given how the metallic subatomic particle was used in literally thousands of compounds critical for Star Force’s advanced tech, including gravity drives.
“Well we won’t be if my scans are even half accurate.”
“Heavy grav world?” Paul guessed.
“304,” she said, referring to the percent compared to Earth.
“Ouch.”
“You should see their vegetation. Everything is rock hard.”
“What do they look like?”
“You didn’t read the brief?”
“I did, but they didn’t have any close up pictures.”
“Their bodies aren’t as hard as they look. A lot of the ‘stony’ patches are solid, but others give under pressure. The lizards figured out which were which and strategically targeted the weak areas, but the thing is plasma only tickles them. Their body temperatures are sky high internally, with their thick carapace containing the heat. That’s one reason why the lizards were having trouble with them.”
“No change of weapons?”
“Recently yes, which is why I think the lizards were experimenting. They brought out what looks like mini rail guns, both on vehicles and hand weapons.”
“How effective were those?”
“Lethal…in large amounts. The Ikrotor are so massive the lizards had to pour projectiles into them to take them down…or hit them with capital ship levels of plasma. The bullet philosophy worked better, but these guys are tough kills no matter what angle you take.”
“What about an ice gun?”
Paul heard Emily scoff. “It took three weeks before that thought occurred to me, and you pull it out within three seconds.”
“Lizards haven’t tried that angle?”
“No, but I think it could be effective. I didn’t have that discussion with them, though.”
“What’s the language situation?”
“Solved prior to my arrival. Seems the Hycre got them schooled in the trade language. We’re still working on decoding theirs.”
“Are they going to turn into a protectorate, or have combat potential?”
“If the lizards reestablish on their homeworld, definitely combat potential, but I don’t know how eager they are to expand their territory. Right now they don’t even have computers, let alone spacecraft. Big fingers don’t lend to building tiny parts.”
“But they have some tech?”
“They’re working on developing machinery to accommodate the size problem, but we can do more to help in 10 minutes than they’ll accomplish in 10 years.”
“Trustworthy?”
“I don’t know,” Emily admitted. “Gratitude goes a long ways. We’ll see what happens when it wears off. They did make a point of not wanting us to set up operations on the planet. They’ll do all the resource collecting and processing, then turn it over to us at specified drop points.”
“Did the lizards know about the corovon?”
“I’d have a hard time saying no, unless they never bothered to pull a planetary scan. Most of their tech doesn’t require it, so there’s a chance they weren’t looking for it.”
“I doubt that too…so when they don’t hear back from their people on…wait, what are we calling the planet?”
“Midgar, and yes, that’s a possibility. Which is why we need a warship put on permanent station as soon as possible.”
“We can cycle one of the old ones over. I want the newer model gravity drives devoted to the raiding missions.”
“Anything happen while I was gone?” Emily asked, walking her hunchback to the side to let a pair of construction mechs pass carrying a huge structural rib between them.
“You hear about Kara?”
“No, what did you have her off doing this time?”
“She found and interrogated a mastermind variant.”
“Where?” Emily asked suspiciously.
“A planet called Albo on the Hycre charts.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“It’s deep lizard territory. She had to go pretty far to find a world big enough.”
“Typical…what did she learn.”
“There’s a ruling family of lizards, which we’re referring to as Templars and Sovereigns…the latter is an upgrade, physically as well as rank. They rule the overall empire, while the genetically grown versions deal with local matters. That’s how they keep from having rogue systems splitting off from the whole.”
“Back up, you said ‘family’ and not genetically grown?”
“Live births…or, well, as far as eggs go. They maintain a bloodline rather than genetically growing what they need. But that’s not the big thing she discovered.”
“No?” Emily asked, finding that rather significant.
“She got a glimpse of their overall battle plan. They’re not aggressively gobbling up every system they can get their hands on, they’re being patient. Very, very patient.”
“Since when?”
“They’re toying with us and the Alliance while they build. They’re master builders, and the combat on the frontier is a diversion away from their other worlds. As time goes on those worlds level up through a tiered system, unlocking bigger and better tech, some of which we’re going to have huge problems with. They’re far more powerful than even the Alliance knows, and instead of rushing ahead and bleeding themselves dry, they’re building more than they lose, and they never stop building. Every year that passes all of their untouched worlds get stronger.”
Emily was silent for a moment.
“Sounds like they’re playing the same game we are.”
“Except their ultimate goal is to spread across the galaxy and keep on going.”
“Good luck with the V’kit’no’sat.”
“True, but from their point of view they are the rightful inheritors of everything and they have to dispossess the squatters. They’re not doing this in self-defense or because of a grudge…they’re purposefully trying to dominate everything and everyone. And by dominate, I mean kill just about everyone else, save where they can find a use for slaves.”
“What about the Nestafar?”
“They screwed up big time.”
“Serves them right,” Emily said, thinking hard. “Where does that leave us?”
“I’ve only talked to a handful of the others, but from here on out we’re going rogue. The Alliance is doomed, and while we’ll honor our commitments and help out where we can, that avenue to victory has always been a mirage. If we’re going to survive the storm that’s coming we have to do it on our own.”
“I don’t follow how we’re better off alone than with the Alliance.”
“We have something they don’t.”
“The pyramid,” Emily said, catching on.
“We have to upgrade past the lizards and establish a strong hold on our territory. We have to build a wall so strong the lizards can’t get in no matter how many trillions they throw at us. Wasting resources going to the aid of our allies would diminish our ability to build that wall in the time we have remaining.”
“How much time are you figuring?”
“Maybe a century, it’s hard to tell. Depends how much of a pain in the ass we are to them.”
“So we should stop making raids?”
“No, odd as it sounds. We do that and we’ll invite an escalation. If we keep them on the defensive they’ll wonder how strong we are and hold back until they’re ready. If they perceive us as weak they’ll try to expand into us and grab as many worlds as they can, then push on further letting those worlds level up while we’re distracted on other battlefronts.”
“So they’re fighting on a bluff out here?”
“Out here, yes. They don’t have the strength to hold as many worlds as they take, and rely on intimidation to shield them from counterattack. But go further back into their territory and they’re sitting on an enormous fleet and resource base.”
“So they’re just playing with us, letting their JV get some experience?”
“They don’t consider us or the Alliance to be a credible threat, and haven’t gone all in as a result. If they ever do, watch out.”
“If we’re going to build this virtual wall, does that mean we stop sending fleets off to fight the Nestafar?”
“We’re working on a plan for that now, and the answer is no. We keep fighting the Nestafar and aiding the Calavari…just with a slightly different agenda. Sara named it Operation Conduit, and I’d like your input before we send a draft back to Corneria.”
“Not one of your projects then?”
“Not directly, no, though it will require cooperation across multiple star systems and fleets. I’m staying here and keeping the lizards busy, distracting them while they’re distracting us,” Paul said ironically.
“You’ve got me curious. What’s the gist of it?”
“Annexation.”
-----
1
December 4, 2434
Iona System
Kirit
Randy sat in the Star Force enclave, a small Human dot situated amongst the world-spanning city that was now Kirit, reading the news briefs that had just arrived insystem via jumpship from the home territories. The Iona system was now considered to be mid-range out from Sol, opposite Paul’s expansion region into the lizard front. Randy had sole command of the ‘neighborhood,’ as he liked to think of it, which was a coreward extension around and out from Iona.
Travel times were still lengthy, but far shorter than what they’d once been, especially given the new jumpship that’d just arrived. It was one of the first Binary Differential Gravity Drives, in that it had a revolutionary breakthrough that now put Star Force on par with the Hycre. The gravity drives were no longer just anti-grav, but gravity enhancing as well.
This meant they could push and pull against gravity wells, whereas before pushing was the only option. Randy had already begun making plans for secret installations in Iona outside the orbit of the furthest planet in the gigantic star system. Kirit was the 8th planet out of 20, which was rather low on average, but the central star was a huge white variety with a gravity well far larger than average…meaning the geography of the system was much more spread out, able to hold multiple Sols or Epsilon Eridanis within its gravitational borders.
Usually the outermost planet in the region marked the boundary from which all starships could not cross, given that they wouldn’t have anything to push off of outside of that to return on…save for conventional thrust which had limited range. Now with the Binary drives the range from which Star Force ships could travel out from the star was extended greatly, for they could now pull on the star itself to bring them back in, leaving the trailblazer with the opportunity to build bases in the outer areas, or doldrums within the system, where other races couldn’t go.
At least he could so long as he had a ship that could get there. It would be decades at least, if not a century, before all Star Force jumpships were upgraded, but all new models coming off the line would be so outfitted, meaning that they’d have more navigational options as the calendar crept forward, which would help him greatly in the Beta Region.
As he’d been learning from pouring over Star Force, Alliance, and V’kit’no’sat maps, population clusters didn’t become denser closer to the core and thinner out towards the rim as most people naturally assumed, but rather there were clusters of habitation everywhere, each with its own internal geography. Paul’s expansion region, loosely dubbed Alpha Region amongst the Archons, was sparsely populated, yet it had dozens of races within it, and that was only the explored sections.
Beta Region was much more populated…but still with isolated, desert-like stretches of untouched star systems that the other races saw as ‘fly over’ country. There were many potential colonization opportunities nearby, and many other races just as close. As it was, Babylon 2 saw more activity than the original Babylon diplomatic station in Epsilon Eridani, which was saying something.
Randy had expanded it twice to make room for the, at present, 132 enclaves that it fielded. That meant 132 different races that felt like establishing permanent diplomatic contact, with many more out there that didn’t. He’d known the galaxy had an insane number of races from what he’d read in the V’kit’no’sat database, but in the time since it’d been updated the geography had changed drastically, making this a whole new neighborhood to get to know.
Randy had expanded Star Force and Clan Star Fox holdings out to 8 additional systems within the Beta Region, pushing their perimeter towards the core while mapping expeditions went well further. Nevil-037 was overseeing a small Gamma Region that was stretching out beneath Sol on the galactic plane, which was around 1,000 lightyears thick, meaning that Star Force was essentially sitting inside a giant sphere of star systems, nowhere close to reaching the galactic edge no matter which direction they travelled.
Each area they mapped brought them into contact with more civilizations, expanding their presence out to more than 500 races, many of which had never even heard of the lizard juggernaut that was slowly creeping their way. Good news was, most of those races were either on par with Star Force or their inferior, with the Alliance making up the bulk of the advanced races, all of which were loosely located in what had been tagged as the Zeta Region to Sol’s ‘left,’ if you were at galactic center looking out.
Epsilon was to the ‘right’ while Delta was ‘above,’ giving the Human Empire six 3-dimensional directions to orient its geography on. Zeta was not being expanded into, other than a handful of systems in the ‘central’ zone that surrounded Sol like a rough sphere. It was Star Force’s core zone, much as the lizards had their own central territory, while Zeta held the jumplanes connecting Star Force to the Alliance.
Most of Star Force’s colonial expansion was happening in Alpha, which was 5 times the size of Beta and was also being lightly colonized by the Hycre and encroached upon by the lizards. Conversely, Beta was almost off the Alliance maps, untouched by the lizards, and a blank slate that the Humans had to deal with entirely on their own merits.
Opening up Star Force systems to trade had helped their reputation immediately, with many races arriving in Iona and establishing diplomatic contact deciding to extend their own interests up further into Star Force territory, with the exception of Sol, which was deemed off limits. They didn’t all trade with Star Force, but they trusted the Humans to keep their own territory clear of pirates and other malcontents, making them safer ‘roads’ to travel and allowing them contact with other races more to their liking than the Humans, who they regarded as neutral arbiters.
Many races closed off their star systems to others…officially. It was impossible to keep a jumpship out, and very hard to intercept one just passing through, braking off the star and repositioning for another jump, so the threats by others were mostly for show, but you didn’t want to risk the chance of bumping into an insystem patrol near the star to which you just decelerated against…after which you’d have to wait and recharge your capacitors to get enough power to make another interstellar jump.
If unable to do that immediately, they’d have to make a micro-jump elsewhere in the system and play a game of cat and mouse until they’d recharged enough to make a run back to the star, find their jumpline, and get the hell out of the system. That minimal possibility of interdiction kept many races out of each other’s territory, forcing commerce lanes to travel in convoluted paths through unclaimed systems in order to ensure safe and reliable transit.
So Star Force’s claim to unfettered access was a popular policy, backed up by their military fleet that was well capable of keeping poachers at bay. Randy pushed that reputation regularly, and had established a multi-racial economic partnership within Beta Region with many neutral exchange centers, some Star Force, some not, where the local races could deal with one another face to face rather than having to search out distant star systems in the hope of finding trading partners.
As he did so Randy kept looking for any hint of the V’kit’no’sat, both in their ongoing mapping expeditions and in their relations with the other races, but so far not one of them had indicated knowledge of a race that powerful, with the Skarrons holding the primary ‘bad guy’ rep in the area, though their territory was much deeper into the core than Beta Region currently extended.
Friendly as most of the racial interactions were with Star Force, though not necessarily with each other, Randy knew he needed hidden bases throughout the region should anyone start planning against their very open infrastructure, making the Binary Gravity Drives a considerable boon to his future plans.
That bit of good news wasn’t all that had come in the message packets. Updates from both the lizard and Nestafar fronts were included, along with a slew of database data that he never directly looked at. It was meant for their computers, so he’d have searchable access to what was happening on every other star system within Star Force’s domain, ranging from population statistics to economic transfers and infrastructure maps. Likewise, data from Beta Region was being carried back via jumpship traffic, keeping the others up to date on what was happening in his neck of the galactic woods.
Randy was drawn to the V’kit’no’sat database updates, which contained useful entries the research teams had pulled out, along with blueprints for new technology upgrades. He particularly liked those, for they were tech that Star Force had already worked the bugs out of, having reverse engineered it from the V’kit’no’sat specs, built, tested, and tweaked for their own uses.
In this update came a genetic scanner that he’d been requesting for years, given the amount of traffic that Babylon 2 and his other public commercial centers saw. Unlike previous scanners that required physical contact, this one had a range of .94 meters and would scan against templates rather than take samples. That meant he could put people in a line, send them through a sensor arch, and be able to identify their race without having to touch them. According to the specs it would work through thick clothing, though armor would probably block the sensor beam.
It would take time to upgrade his infrastructure, but it was a valuable puzzle piece he needed in Beta Region as he grew what he considered to be an economic Alliance between the various races in the region.
In the message packet there were also log updates from some of the other trailblazers which he’d sort through later, but with them came a few flagged items, including one ‘Operation Conduit’ brief that he opened up and skimmed through, his brow furrowing as he went back to the start and read it through line by line.
Randy set the datapad down when he finished, then stood up and walked over to the panoramic window that stretched around his command tower, reminiscent of Davis’s office in Atlantis. This version rose up on par with several nearby Kiritas towers outside the Human city, though they didn’t surpass it. A sign of Kiritas gratitude and respect for their Star Force allies.
Randy’s view out to those towers was unobstructed, given that all other Human structures were lower in height. He stared out past them to the Kiritas buildings, which mimicked the Star Force infrastructure while maintaining an alien tinge, and lost himself in calculated thought for some 20 minutes before he finally walked away from the window to the central staircase, but stepped over the inner railing and grabbed hold of the fire pole that the staircase wound itself around.
Slackening his grip he slid down several stories through the gap, landing in the main control center for the Clan Star Fox city, the Iona System, and all of Beta Region.
“Is the High Council currently in session?” he asked one of some 30+ staffers coordinating his mini-empire.
“Should have began an hour ago, and they typically go for three or four.”
Randy nodded contently and headed for the exit, passing down through the wider sections of the tower below until he got to the surface streets. He crossed over to a nearby hangar and grabbed a skeet, then flew the green/brown starfighter up above the buildings and crossed into the Kiritas zone, flying over the crowded streets full of wheeled vehicles, for the corovon elements necessary for anti-grav technology were reserved for their space and aerial craft, unlike on Star Force worlds where flying traffic was as common as ground vehicles.
Randy flew straight over to the Kiritas capitol building, which they’d purposefully located near to, but a respectful distance from, the Star Force enclave. He was given direct access, bypassing security and landing on a topside pad reserved for high ranking individuals, such as the High Council and Human traffic.
When he set down and exited the topside hatch Randy slid off the side onto the ground with 8 Kiritas waiting for him. Two were guards, armed with their anatomical version of stinger pistols, while the other six were pad workers, one of which walked/hopped over to him and looked up at his face from its lower height.
“What do you require?” it asked in English, which all Kiritas now spoke as their native language. The Alliance trade language was their preferred secondary, with their original language now having been relegated to the annals of their planetary history.
“Is the High Council in session?”
“Yes it is. Would you like to meet with them?”
Randy nodded. “I have something important to discuss.”
“Follow me,” the short, stubby kangaroo-like creature said, turning and hopping off towards the pad entrance to the building beneath them. The two guards took up ceremonial flanking positions alongside the Human, who was dressed in his standard Archon ranger uniform and unarmed. Kirit was probably the safest world in Beta Region, given that the populace was almost entirely pro-Human. Star Force was upgrading their society by leaps and bounds, both with technology and knowledge, and many Kiritas would glad jump in front of an enemy to save a Human without a second thought.
The area around the Human enclave saw a fair amount of Humans mixing with the local Kiritas, but other than in this part of the planet Star Force was more legend than reality, with the rare encounter seeing the Humans treated with greater respect than the Kiritas’s own leaders, with whom Randy was now enroute to.
The capitol building wasn’t a spire, but rather a thick building designed to shield the internal core from potential weaponsfire and protecting the leaders against attack, taking from Star Force’s own tactical designs. Several other nearby buildings were taller, but none the larger, for it held the command infrastructure for their entire civilization that now spanned 5 star systems and 18 planetoids, thanks to Randy’s help in teaching them how to build jumpships.
When he got to the guarded doors that led into the High Council chamber the Kiritas immediately opened them for him, interrupting the ongoing meeting. Randy walked into the now silent room down the middle of a rectangular promenade with rows of seats on his left and right, along with a short set of rows directly ahead. A hologram of some data chart disappeared from view in the gap between them, giving the Archon the full attention of the assembled Councilors as the doors resealed behind him.
“Greetings, Archon Randy,” one of the 58 Kiritas said, its voice amplified by speakers. “Your presence is most welcome, though we would gladly have come to you if you’d requested it.”
“I know,” Randy said, glancing around at all the leaders, most of whom he knew by face, having dealt with or trained them all. Still, they weren’t Humans, so at times he had trouble differentiating one from another, though now he had the ability to pull a mental profile and memories if needed, so he rarely made a mistake as to who was who.
“But what I have to say is more appropriately said here than in one of our facilities. You have asked for many years to assist us with the war against the Nestafar or lizards, and I have declined your requests given that your warfleet is not yet a match for their technology. Above that, it’s also not your fight…at least not yet.”
“However, recent information has been sent to me indicating that the lizard threat is far greater than we anticipated. They have amassed a huge empire deep inside their widespread territory where we can’t scout. They are waiting and growing their strength rather than throwing their full resources against us. When they do, we will be sorely outmatched, even with the combined might of the Alliance. We do have time, however, to prepare, for they are not choosing to launch their full power against us yet. They still have a powerful enemy on their rimward border, known as the H’kar. So long as they exist, I don’t believe we will draw their primary attention.”
“Given the recent information we’ve gained about their strength, we are implementing a new battle plan…and for that I am here to ask for your help,” Randy said, letting that point hang in the air.
The High Councilors visibly stirred. This was the first time in their 86 year history that the Humans had ever asked for their help, and the Kiritas had been continuously eager to both prove their worth to their superior allies as well as to repay them for the lifesaving changes they’d implemented on Kirit in any way, shape, or form possible, hence the previous offers of military assistance.
“What do you require of us?” the Military Councilor asked. Each of the 58 High Council members led a portion of Kiritas society. They were not elected or appointed, but rather experienced leaders having risen up through the ranks in their respective divisions, patterned heavily off of Star Force’s own personnel structure, though without any Archon or Davis equivalents.
“Something big,” Randy said slowly, making eye contact with many of the shorter aliens who were seated above his eye line. “Something that will change the Kiritas once again.”
Some of the Councilors practically bounced out of their seats with anticipation, for they knew that whatever this was, it was monumental.
“Ask,” the Food Supply Councilor prompted eagerly.
Randy let out a slow breath, then looked up at his Kiritas friends, knowing how much of a shock this was going to be, given the population restrictions they lived under.
“We need you to grow.”
2
“There are half a trillion Humans,” Randy continued after a round of frenzied questions, “spread out through 74 star systems. There are five and a half trillion Kiritas, spread across 5 star systems. You can reproduce faster than us, which has been a problem in the past, but it can also be an asset.”
“You need more soldiers?” the Military Councilor asked.
“We need more resources,” the trailblazer clarified. “We’re not asking you to fight, we’re asking you to help us build. This region of the galaxy has many uninhabited star systems with worlds that hold vast amounts of natural resources. Star Force has claimed only 8 systems, and those that we do have are not well developed yet. It will take time to expand and grow, but even as we do it will not be enough to counter the resources the lizards have available to them. We have to close the gap, and you are the key to doing that, if you’re willing.”
“Of course we are willing,” the Reproduction Councilor said cautiously, “but how will we sustain greater numbers, above and beyond our current growth scales?”
“I do not want you to alter your current plans. Your civilization is now stable, and growing at a substantial rate. You’ve taken what we’ve taught you and applied it well, but what I’m asking of you now goes far beyond that.”
The High Councilors exchanged glances with one another, but it was the Reproduction Councilor that spoke for them all.
“We do not understand.”
“Star Force is comprised of many parts,” Randy began, knowing this was going to take some explaining of things the Kiritas had not been previously informed of. “We have a military and a civilian split, with the Archons controlling the military and Administrators controlling our cities. We work together, much as you do with your respective divisions. This you know, but what you do not know is that there are more parts to Star Force.”
“I am of Clan Star Fox, but unlike the clans that Kirit once had, my Clan is independent and self- supporting. This is critical, in that if the major network of Star Force infrastructure was to be taken down, Clan Star Fox could survive on its own. In addition, there are 99 other Clans, each capable of independent operation. We are each an individual empire, with our own cities, sometimes our own worlds. We have our own military, some of which is present in this system, the rest are standard troops, assigned here from the primary fleet, which is far larger than what any Clan fields.”
“We are all Star Force, but we operate in different ways, structured for a future day when we are badly defeated. If and when that day occurs we will not crumble, for the Clans can continue on without the others…just as the primary fleet and colonies can continue on without the Clans. We are stronger for this, but the primary fleet and the Clans are not all that there is to Star Force.”
“There is also another entity called Canderous. You have never seen them, for they are not present in this region of the galaxy, but they co-inhabit many star systems along with the Clans and the primary colonies. They are Humans that we, the Archons, have trained to be a military civilization that lives almost exclusively in space stations. They have some resource gathering infrastructure on the surface of worlds, but their colonies are always in space.”
“They are independent as well, but they take orders from the Archons, and are part of Star Force. Our terminology can be confusing at times, for ‘Star Force’ can refer to our primary fleet and colonies, or it can refer to our overall empire that includes the Clans and Canderous. Also, in our home system, there are Human factions that are independent from us. Some are allies, some are not. They are small and insignificant, a remnant of the past, but they are also under our protection, so when we speak of Humans they are included, and when the term ‘Star Force’ is used for Humans, it can also apply to them, and the population number I gave you includes them as well.”
“What I am here to ask of you…or perhaps I should say offer you…is for the Kiritas to become part of Star Force, part of our empire, while maintaining a level of independence, same way the Clans and Canderous do.”
That set the Councilors off, and the din of hushed conversation between them was too convoluted for Randy to make out, even as it escalated into a full blown roar. Using his psionics, he could get the general sense of their mood…which was elated…and knew that they were going to accept in some form or another, for what he had just offered them was being received as a great honor.
The frantic discussions went on for nearly 2 minutes before the Reproduction Councilor brought the others into order with a series of audial tones that sounded like a musically inclined jackhammer.
“A point of clarification, Archon Randy. You said earlier that you needed us to grow, now you say that you want us to join with you. How are these two things connected?”
Randy smiled, glad that he’d caught that.
“As I said, your civilization is stable, and we do not want to upset that stability. We want to bring the Kiritas into Star Force as you are, while at the same time creating another Kiritas from volunteers. Long ago the Kiritas clans referred to those of you who were trained by us to be Kiritak, and separate from the rest of you. I plan to build a new Kiritak civilization, one with the sole purpose of collecting the raw resources we need to build the ships and infrastructure we need to defend ourselves against the lizards when they finally move against us en mass.”
“The Kiritak would be led by Humans and use our technology, as we establish hundreds of new colonies with the sole purpose of collecting resources. We, the Humans, will monitor and control the population growth rate of the Kiritak, as well as supply all foodstuffs they require. We only need your volunteers to begin, along with as many eggs as you can spare.”
“Meanwhile, the Kiritas will continue to advance on your own. Know this…we need you to be independent and capable of operating without the rest of Star Force. You need to advance your technology, your fleet, and be able to protect your own worlds when we are not here. When the lizards come, we may have to pull our ships away, and in their place you will have to step up.”
“The Star Force fleet will guard the Kiritak and their colonies while the resources they harvest will be shipped out, for the most part, to the lizard front. There they will build warships and battle stations to prevent the lizards from ever coming here. You can help us defend ourselves against the lizards by providing us resources…resources that we cannot collect ourselves, for our numbers are too low. They are growing, but you have far more people than we do, with the potential to raise that number considerably higher over a much shorter period of time.”
“That is why we need you to grow. Continue your stable growth as Kiritas, and channel to us your explosive growth through the Kiritak. Both will become part of Star Force. At present, you are our friends and allies. We are offering to make you our brothers. What say you to that?”
The Kiritas Councilors exchanged glances with each other again, but this time there wasn’t much discussion. One of them put up a voting hologram above Randy’s head in the chamber in a simple ‘yes or no’ fashion, and the Councilors quickly input their votes, needing no further discussion or clarification.
The tally quickly shot up to 58 yesses, making their decision unanimous.
Randy smiled, and clasped his hands behind his back as he stared up at the tally, and then them.
“Welcome to the party.”
Four years later…
Morgan raised her strapped right arm up level to the ground, with her neo mimicking her movements and doing the same with the machine’s appendage, on top of which sat a small mauler cannon. With a twitch of a finger she triggered it to fire, sending a brilliant blue mass of energy across a couple hundred meters into the side of a Nestafar super dragon.
The corrosive energy ate into the normally stubborn chrome armor, literally dissolving it in a splash of melted material that left a hole in the underside of the giant walker as Morgan’s neo ran up to and underneath it, getting hit with a red plasma blast from a leg turret in the process. Her mech’s energy shields caught it fully, spreading out the blast so that it surrounded her in a momentary cloud of ionized gas before the shields drained it of power and it reverted back into harmless hot air.
Morgan pumped another mauler blast into the hole she’d just made, overlapping impact craters to get a small opening in to the interior of the gigantic walker. Standing underneath it as its six humongous legs propelled it onwards towards the Calavari battle fort, she raised her neo’s other arm, this one containing a plasma cannon, and started firing at near pointblank range in through the hole that was well above the mech’s head.
The ranger got off three salvos before her shields failed and her neo’s armor started to take hits, prompting her to get moving again. She ran across to the other side of the giant walker, targeting one of the leg batteries that was firing on her while other Star Force mechs took the opportunity she’d given them and targeted the hole with plasma fire and missiles while Morgan tried to snipe the heavy weapons that had been devastating the Calavari flying tanks.
Meanwhile the super dragon’s primary weapon fired off another long range stream of thick plasma into the shields of the fort up ahead, this time penetrating the defensive barrier and winging one of the defensive cupolas on top, with the excess plasma passing harmlessly through air and out the far side of the base. Morgan saw the shield failure notice on her battlemap, and despite the armor damage she was taking, moved up to the front of the super dragon, dancing between its six giant legs to avoid being stepped upon, and fired her mauler up into the main cannon’s orifice.
The energy hit a small shield protecting the walker’s primary weapon, blocking it from doing damage to the vulnerable mechanism, but the excess ate into the armor surrounding it, and Morgan knew that even if the shield didn’t go down, the armor would melt away with a few more hits.
The Nestafar gunners on the massive walker realized that as well, with every available heavy weapon still operating on the legs and underside turning to target her mech.
Luckily she saw it coming and ran back through the legs, knowing that the Nestafar weapons batteries rotated slowly. She caught a few plasma hits, one of which her renewed shields blocked before failing again, before she exited out the back end of the walker into the face of a giraffe as it collected red plasma at the peak of its head, preparing to fire at her.
Morgan didn’t slow, but ran straight into it, jutting out a corovon alloy blade from the left wrist of the modified neo and hacking through the neck of the walker with one strong swing…though the blade stuck three quarters of the way through, but it was enough to sever the power conduits and render the walker’s primary weapon useless.
Turrets on the back of the super dragon’s legs lit her neo up just as an internal explosion sent a plume of fiery debris back out the small hole in the left side. Two of the legs stopped functioning, bringing the massive beast to a frozen stop. Its weapons on the right side continued to fire, as did the main plasma streamer, which launched another ruby beam towards the Calavari fort, with this one hitting the barrier wall surrounding the buildings and melting through the artificial rock construction.
Morgan deactivated the mauler on her right arm, regaining the use of her mech’s hand and grabbed the neck of the giraffe. Using the leverage she pulled her blade free, then ignored the nearly decapitated machine as its smaller weapons chewed at her mech’s legs and chest. She pivoted around, coming up on the super dragon’s left side and passing through or underneath the firing lines of a dozen or so Star Force mechs as she moved back up to the front and targeted the main weapon again as gold plasma orbs and streaks were nipping away at the walker’s almost impervious armor from a host of Calavari tanks halfway between it and the fort.
Morgan’s neo was the only mech on the battlefield that had a mauler, so she knew she had to take out the primary weapon else it’d wreck the Calavari base like it had two others previously. With her own armor down to 50% in places she knew she could take a few more hits and tagged the nearest batteries on the super dragon as targets, hoping the nearby mechs could whittle them down before they roasted her.
When she got up past the first leg on the left she pumped another mauler shot into the side of the stubby main cannon, melting some armor off as she shot a plasma blast into the shield covering the muzzle, discovering that it was still in place and wondering just what kind of matrix it was using, for the mauler usually disrupted shields. Then again, her mauler was just a baby mauler, so she hit it again with both arms’ weapons, and this time saw a little bit of plasma sneak through following the mauler.
Then another huge ruby beam leapt up, with the defensive shield dropping a fraction of a second before it did, and reappearing afterward. Morgan didn’t even look at the damage it had done, nor to the flashing red on her own mech’s armor schematics, she just fired again and again until the mauler did its magic and penetrated the shield, melting the outer barrel and letting her plasma get in too.
A hail of golden plasma followed, most of which missed but a few hits got inside the only vulnerable place on the otherwise armored weapon, followed by a radial plume of plasma as the weapon tried to fire again and malfunctioned, eating through its own armor as the magnetic constraints in the barrel were no longer powered.
A sizeable amount hit the fort, but the rest opened up the barrel, melting away its components and causing a backwash that gutted the weapon. Now with a new spot to shoot at, the Calavari tanks, which were still getting picked off by the super dragon’s remaining secondary cannons and support walkers, concentrated their firepower and pounded the ‘head’ of the huge walker furiously as Morgan got the hell out of their firing line and retreated back behind her fellow Star Force mechs, who shifted to targeting the spiders and giraffes that had been escorting the big machine.
Only then did Morgan take a good look at her armor, seeing it was chewed up and her shield generators had been slagged…or at least the emitters had been, with the internal generators still labeled as intact, but without the emitters they were useless.
Walking with a slight limp, due to an excessive amount of armor having been sheared off the right leg that was now unbalancing the mech, Morgan circled around behind the three stars of mechs that were distracting the enemy from her and picked out a peripheral target, running up alongside a madcat and using her still intact mauler to help take down the spider it was targeting by slagging the belly plasma streamer in one shot, taking out its most potent weapon.
With the super dragon down, the rest of the battle came to a predictable end. Morgan lost two of her mechs, but the pilots were recovered intact…the same couldn’t be said of the Calavari tanks that littered the road between the mega walker’s corpse and the fort, whose shield generators had survived the attack and were now covering the base with its protective canopy once again.
“Morgan, you have a minute?” a voice asked into her spherical cockpit where the Archon was strapped into the control harness half nude.
“Go ahead.”
“A relief fleet just arrived in orbit.”
“Who’s?” she asked, frowning.
“One of ours, and it’s a big one. Says they’re looking for you.”
“Who’s in command?”
“Jenna-732.”
One of her Ninja Monkeys, and a high ranking one at that. Whatever this was about, it had to be important else they wouldn’t have assigned an Archon of her caliber to babysit a fleet. It couldn’t be another taskforce, for only Morgan, Taryn, and Leif-069 had been assigned to the Calavari/Nestafar front, with replacement and relief fleets being sent out to them rather than having the trailblazers return to Star Force territory periodically for resupply.
This new fleet had to be one of those, but if it was a lower ranking Archon would have been escorting it here. Jenna was too important to be wasted as backup to what usually was an all naval theatre of war. This particular ground excursion had been an exception, meaning that most of the Archons in Morgan’s taskforce usually sat on their butts onboard their warships twiddling their thumbs or training in the onboard sanctums. Most of the strategic and tactical planning was carried out by Morgan and her fleet Captains, meaning the Archons she did have with her were usually second string, yet seasoned fighters.
“Connect me to her now,” Morgan ordered, still picking her way across the debris field of downed Nestafar walkers looking for living enemies, machine or biological, that could still pose a threat as the Calavari sent out troop transports to take care of any Nestafar crews trapped inside their disabled walkers.
With resources spread thin on many worlds like this one, she had to keep an eye on them to make sure they didn’t gun down surrendering Nestafar, though they probably deserved it. Star Force wasn’t taking permanent prisoners, and the Calavari didn’t want to waste foodstuffs on prisoners when their own people were seeing heavy rationing on war torn worlds. That said, the Nestafar usually didn’t surrender, but Morgan wasn’t going to let any battle she was in devolve into a mindless slaughter.
“Morgan?”
“Here, Jenna,” she said to the audio-only commlink. “What’s up, Monkey?”
“Big things in the works, including a convoy route back home that doesn’t rely on the Hycre. The ships I’ve brought with me are fresh out of the shipyards with the new Binary drives. We’ve got a link from Drema to Corneria that’s 3 and a half months long,” she said, referencing the relatively secure Calavari world that the Hycre had been dropping Star Force fleets off at, then letting them make their way across the Calavari spacelanes hunting Nestafar targets of their choice.
That was almost as good as the Hycre’s 8 weeks, considering they wouldn’t have to wait for available carrier jumpships which always had load limitations. In fact, it’d allow much more in the way of cargo transfer once Star Force had enough upgraded jumpships to flood the route with.
“Sweet,” Morgan said, knowing how important that would be, but knowing that wasn’t the reason why Jenna was here. “What else?”
“Stuff I’d rather not say over the comm, no matter how good our encryption is.”
“I had a feeling it was something like that,” Morgan said, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll be back in orbit within the next 10 hours. Meet me on the Red Ranger…but first, tell me whose brainchild this is.”
“A team effort that originated with Paul, I believe.”
That meant it wasn’t big, but huge, otherwise he wouldn’t be involving Morgan’s war theatre when he had his own to deal with.
“Figures. See you in a few. I’ve got some cleanup work to finish down here first.”
“Copy that, boss. Take your time. We’re not in a rush.”
3
March 19, 2439
Karchonis System
Elomirit (Calavari territory)
Morgan and her personalized neo, or rather what was left of it, returned up to orbit via dropship and rendezvoused with the trailblazer’s taskforce that consisted of 43 warships and an additional 28 cargo jumpships. Huge as the fleet was, it paled in comparison to the 263 jumpships that were holding position in a slightly higher orbit, each of which was twice the size of the Red Ranger and full of new tech.
They were the largest jumpships Star Force had ever constructed, with several variants. Only a handful were warships, Morgan saw as she studied the dropship’s link into the fleet battlemap as it ascended, with the rest being a mix of pure cargo ships and hybrid carriers. Those carriers were empty, which she found odd. They were designed to carry other ships, drone or otherwise, and it didn’t make sense for Star Force to send them out here with empty loads. She hoped their internal cargo bays weren’t likewise empty, because she could use as many resources as she could get out on this very lonely battlefield.
The Calavari civilization was in shambles, or rather parts of it were. There were still strong areas, bunches of star systems that the Nestafar hadn’t yet been able to touch, but by the same token there were vast areas of carnage that may have been labeled as Calavari territory on the map, but it no longer truly belonged in that category. Some of them had fallen into Nestafar hands, but most were just empty battlefields littered with machines and bodies from both sides.
The Calavari had made two reprisal campaigns into Nestafar territory that had cut deep, and after that everything seemed to get lost in the fog of war. Information coming from the Alliance was sketchy, with Morgan, Taryn, and Leif coordinating with each other through a network of courier ships. They were hitting targets of opportunity rather than engaging in the heaviest of fighting, often being able to blindside Nestafar fleets and ground troops that were in more or less the same condition as the Calavari.
The two civilizations were pounding each other so hard, it seemed like whoever came out the victor would be a mere technicality, for they were decimating each other in the process.
Morgan was doing what she could to help, as were the other Alliance races, but the Nestafar had committed their entire military to this blood feud and the Calavari had been forced to respond in kind. The Bsidd and Kvash had been assisting them primarily in the contended region with the lizards, insuring that the Nestafar threat wouldn’t pull Calavari out of that fight and leave the door open for the real enemy to come in through. Meanwhile the Hycre were all over the map, making strikes with their dominant naval power but never staying in one place for too long.
The lesser Alliance races, Star Force included, were helping out where they could, but in the case of the Humans they just didn’t have the numbers to make a significant difference on the overall warfront. They were making a huge difference to the systems they were intervening in, as well as racking up a sizeable kill count of Nestafar ships, which Morgan was most definitely keeping score of, but it was still just a drop in the galactic bucket, with the overall outcome remaining in the hands of the Nestafar and Calavari.
Had she more resources Morgan could have made a bigger dent, which she hoped had been provided by Jenna’s fleet, but seeing the carriers empty made her reconsider that and question what in the blazes were they really doing out here.
Once she got back onboard the Red Ranger Morgan didn’t have to wait long to find out, for Jenna was waiting for her inside one of the ship’s map rooms.
“Ok, what’s going on?” she asked, stepping into the medium-sized room and only seeing Jenna present, which was odd, for these workrooms were typically busy with overflow duties that couldn’t be accommodated on the bridge.
“Shut the door,” Jenna prompted.
Morgan frowned but turned around and spotted the door control on the edge of the entryway arch and telekinetically pressed it, with what looked like a blast door closing behind her. She waited until it had sealed before looking Jenna in the eye and raising an eyebrow.
“I can brief you in full,” the Ninja Monkey said, holding up a small data chip, “but first you need to see this…so you don’t bite my head off.”
“Nice to see you too,” Morgan said, walking up to the main holographic table and standing next to it on the opposite side from Jenna as she input the chip into a slot on the underside, with a half-sized image of Jason appearing to stand on the table between them facing the wall to Morgan’s right and Jenna’s left.
“My apologies,” the prerecorded message began, “for keeping you in the dark for so long, but we thought it’d only serve as a distraction for you until we had the assets in place to allow you to take action. You’ve been kicking the crap out of the Nestafar and we didn’t want to jinx you, so we didn’t include any of what you’re about to hear in the standard message packets.”
“If it makes you feel any better, we told everyone else except you three because, well, we just don’t like you,” Jason joked as his hologram snapped its fingers and a star map popped up beside him. “Operation Conduit provides us a link to Calavari space independent of the Hycre, freeing up their carrier jumpships for other uses and allowing us more tonnage than they could provide…save for Daka, which they are still providing transit to.”
The star map outlined the zigzag course from one pinprick of light to another starting at Epsilon Eridani and ending just inside the outer boundary of Calavari space, crossing a huge gap of territory in which the majority of the Hycre worlds fell, along with a number of other smaller races.
“Now, here’s the part we didn’t want to distract you with, and what Jenna will explain in detail. The Conduit isn’t meant for us to supply you with additional resources. It’s meant for you to start sending Calavari back to us, quietly, so we can start rebuilding their civilization within Alpha Region. As we discussed earlier, the Alliance is doomed one way or another, but we intend to save the Calavari…some of them anyway…and make them a part of Star Force, similar to what we’ve done with the Kiritas.”
“From the reports you’ve been sending back, we know there’s a lot of worlds the Calavari aren’t resupplying, either because they’re short on resources or because they’re now behind enemy lines. I’d suggest you target those Calavari for removal. There’s no need to consult with the Calavari government, for these worlds have already been abandoned in one form or another.”
“They also might not like the idea of us annexing their race, so be careful how you proceed. We know we won’t be able to evacuate even a tiny fraction of their overall population, but we have facilities in place to handle all you can send us via the Conduit. You’ll be getting more of the new jumpships sent your way as the years pass, and we intend to make this operation one of our top priorities. Aside from their friendship with us, the Calavari are too valuable of an ally to let them be destroyed. Whereas the Kiritas aren’t well suited for combat, the Calavari are another matter entirely. Put them in Knight armor and…well, you can use your imagination.”
“We didn’t want your actions tipping our hand prior to now, which is why you weren’t informed. Taryn and Leif I’ll leave you to update and coordinate with.”
With that Jason’s hologram and star map winked out, leaving Morgan looking across the table at Jenna.
“I only found out a year ago, so don’t blame me,” she said, raising her hands up defensively.
“No, it’s alright,” Morgan said, waving off her concern as she started thinking hard. “What’s your fleet’s carrying capacity?”
“Conservatively, 80,000 Calavari per jumpship, half that for the hybrids, with sufficient supplies onboard for the trip back home. Roughly 14.5 million capacity with the ships I brought.”
Morgan sighed and shook her head. “That’s not enough, not by a long shot. Most of the Calavari frontier worlds hold 50 million plus. With all the losses they’ve taken we might be able to evacuate one.”
“More jumpships will come, and these will rotate back. We know this is going to be a long process. Our primary concern is finding Calavari that want to be rescued.”
“’Rescued’ isn’t the concern,” Morgan said, knowing well by now how the Calavari thought. “Whether or not they’ll want to leave the war zone is the real question. If this war was happening in Star Force territory and the Calavari came and pulled you off a destroyed colony, would you want to leave or get back into the fight?”
“Dumb question there,” Jenna answered.
“Don’t assume their military is going to be any different, for the most part. We’ll have to be choosey, as well as offering to relocate the ones who don’t want to leave…probably just drop them off at Drema, but there’s only so many refugees they can take on, and we don’t want the Calavari government catching on to what we’re doing. We need to deal exclusively with the Calavari colonies that have been lost or are in really bad shape, and I can’t go up to them and offer to evacuate half of them,” Morgan pointed out.
“So we don’t evacuate the military, just the civilians.”
“Their females may be ‘civilians’ but the males aren’t. They all fight, one way or another,” Morgan said, tapping her fingernail on her teeth as she thought.
“This is your end of Operation Conduit,” Jenna said bluntly. “Get Calavari back to the others however you like and they’ll take them from there.”
“Where is there, exactly? If they’re going to a planet in the expansion zone, stopping off at Corneria is out of the way.”
Jenna pulled up the map that had been alongside Jason’s hologram and highlighted the conduit’s route…then brought up a spur several segments away from the Epsilon Eridani System.
“Here’s the point where the Calavari transports will break off…all other jumpships will continue to Corneria as usual.”
“Are the Hycre aware of this?”
“No.”
“What system is that?” Morgan asked, pointing to the end of the spur.
Jenna zoomed in on that portion of map, expanding out Alpha Region until it filled the table.
“Prolio. It has one large, habitable world with conditions favorable to the Calavari. We’re building Star Force infrastructure there already, but tailored to their physiology. You don’t need to send Calavari construction crews back, just the people themselves.”
“Can I offer the Calavari sanctuary here if they travel on their own ships?”
Jenna nodded. “That’s a contingency plan that’s been discussed. If they want to construct their own colony here they’re welcome to, but we’re planning on assimilating the refugees into Star Force, not recreating one of their homeworlds. We can do both, if necessary.”
“Well that’s something then. What kind of numbers can we support, foodstuff wise?”
“As many as you can send our way. With the help of the Kiritak, we’re setting up bioharvest facilities on a scale we’ve never attempted before, some of which are being placed in Alpha Region to directly feed the Calavari. One of them will be operational before you can get the first refugees there.”
Morgan nodded. “Useful little buggers, aren’t they?”
“I had a chance to meet a few before we left. They’re very eager to help, and they speak perfect English, which is a little disconcerting.”
“Randy’s doing…what’s their efficiency like?”
“Better than ours, mostly. Their smaller size is letting us design more compact factories, and we’ve got a very basic ambrosia formula worked up for them…so they’re very hyper.”
“Not sure that’s a good idea,” Morgan scoffed, trying to imagine what that would look like.
“It’ll increase the odds of them reaching self-sufficiency, and that will help maintain a workforce rather than having to cyclically replace…”
“I know, I know. I was joking.”
“Oh,” Jenna said, having missed that cue, probably due to the fact that she hadn’t seen Morgan in more than 20 years.
“Who’s handling the Calavari at Prolio?”
“Jason and Jace. Jace with the training and Jason is organizing the entire operation from a seda he built in orbit. They’ve got the relay network extended out that far, so he can link in with Corneria and the rest of the inner zone.”
“Have they got it out to Namek yet?”
“Working on it, but they’re still missing a few links.”
“Do the warships you’ve brought have telaris sensors?”
Jenna nodded. “Both the jumpships and the drones.”
“Well then…looks like I’m claiming a new flagship. We’ll swap out my oldest ones and put them on convoy duty.”
“What about Taryn and Leif?”
Morgan shrugged. “First come, first serve,” she said with a smirk.
Jenna mirrored her expression. “Jason wanted me handling the convoys, unless you had another place for me?”
“Sort of,” Morgan said, thinking fast and already having outlined a rough playbook that she’d be working out of for the next decade. “The Captains can handle themselves moving up and down the conduit, what I need you to do is oversee the transfer from my taskforce back to Drema…and to make sure we don’t lose that planet, otherwise our convoys coming up the conduit could be walking into an ambush. The Nestafar are fairly good at insystem intercepts, and if a ship is caught sleeping they’ll nail it.”
“I’d hope none of our Captains are that sloppy.”
“They’re not, but some of the Calavari are, and the Nestafar have picked up a lot of experience at their expense, so they’re not so hesitant to try as others might be.”
Jenna nodded. “How many warships do you want to leave me?”
“Enough to hold Drema and patrol the routes out to ever changing pickup points,” Morgan said, taking control of the map and zipping it over to Calavari territory…which was far larger than all six Regions surrounding Sol combined.
She pointed to their current position, then ran her finger back through several systems until she got to Drema.
“We’ll have to coordinate well, but I want fingers coming out from Drema that will be your responsibility to guard. Me, Taryn, and Leif will bring the Calavari transports to the end points where they’ll meet up with your escorts. Once they do and move back to Drema, the finger will move to another position, that way neither the Nestafar nor anyone else will be able to peg our movements and get inventive.”
“I’ll have to know where to go ahead of time,” Jenna pointed out.
“I’ll send the next finger endpoint back with the jumpships, so will Taryn and Leif. You plot the best route to get there…and be mindful of the geography, there are some jumplanes that we won’t use, but the Nestafar will.”
“I thought our shields were on par with theirs by now?”
“The newer models are better, actually, we’re just more cautious with navigation. They’re losing so many ships per day that the odd debris collision during jumps probably seems minor compared to the distance savings.”
“Glad I’m not on their side.”
“The Calavari are doing the same thing, as far as I can tell. Information on their movements is sketchy, but they’re desperate. They know they’re losing, even with Alliance help. Their naval disadvantage is proving too great, but then the Nestafar can’t easily take the worlds they’re claiming from orbit. That means really messy ground combat that is eviscerating the Nestafar.”
“We’ve been picking off as many ships from orbit as we can,” Morgan continued, “but have left most of the ground engagements to the Calavari. We’ve pacified this region more or less, but we keep moving about so as not to draw attention for a counterattack. Thus far it’s been easy pickings, but equipment wears down and ammunition is depleted, limiting what we can do. So I hope somewhere in that big ass fleet of yours there’s supplies for me and just not the Calavari?”
“Well, we had to fill the empty interiors with something for the trip out,” Jenna said, smiling.
“Why are the carriers empty then?”
“They’re only empty since Drema. We dropped off a lot of stuff to fortify the planet.”
“Good,” Morgan said, relieved that Jason was on top of the planning. “Now give me the rundown on who and what you brought.”
4
August 27, 2439
Renx System
Lrat (Nestafar Occupation Zone)
Bronsor ducked behind a tree trunk as a pair of Nestafar infantry flew by overhead, pulling his four arms in close to his chest and trying to hold still. He and the rest of his unit had fled into the hills surrounding the city of Sassma when the garrison finally fell, and they’d been hunted ever since, though the Calavari had been taking down a good number of them from range.
These had gotten in close, meaning Bronsor’s unit was either out of place, incapacitated…or dead, otherwise this pair would have been sniped out of the sky by now. Give the Nestafar the sky and they had a significant advantage, but force them down to ground level and the odds weren’t in their favor. The trees here weren’t the thickest, granting many gaps for the Nestafar to fire down through and leaving Bronsor in a tight spot when he’d been expecting fire support.
Luckily the Nestafar didn’t spot him and flew on past. The Calavari held still for several seconds afterwards, listening for more wing flaps or footsteps and hearing neither. Unfurling his arms from his sides, he pulled up his one remaining rifle and held it at the ready in his lower right hand. He only had a few dozen shots remaining, and after that he’d be down to his knives, which wouldn’t be very useful against Nestafar in the air, especially given that he wasn’t very good at throwing them.
Bronsor walked away from his tree, trying to stay under the thick parts of the reddish/brown canopy as he moved further into the forest and away from the city…heading to a small training outpost where he and the others hoped they’d find some supplies. Ammo they needed, but food and water were more scarce, and Bronsor hadn’t eaten anything the past 2 days, leaving him lightheaded but none the less committed to reaching his target and finding a way to survive.
Ten minutes later he heard a rifle shot nearby, but couldn’t see anyone ahead through the brush or any Nestafar in the air from his position underneath the broken canopy. Gripping the upper branch of his Y-shaped rifle with his top right arm as well as the lower, he readied himself to shoot quick and headed in the direction the sound of the shot had come from.
It didn’t take him long to find a Calavari lying dead beneath a tree…but he hadn’t been killed by the Nestafar. The plasma burn to his forehead had come from his own rifle, which lay nearby at an angle that told Bronsor that he’d triggered it with his foot while placing his head over the barrel, meaning he’d killed himself.
Bronsor closed his eyes for the moment, then opened them and picked up the rifle. Checking its ammo supply he found it only had 8 shots remaining, but it was 8 more than he’d previously had so he switched it over to his lower left arm and carried it away with him, leaving the body where it lay and wondering how much longer he could hang on before being tempted to do the same as Chavva had just done.
The Nestafar owned the planet now. Sassma had been one of the remaining holdouts, but now it was gone, overrun by the flying bastards and their hard armored walkers. Their infantry the Calavari could handle, but the walkers were damn near impossible to take out when they hit you with numbers, and they’d assaulted Sassma with more than 40 of them.
With air support they might have been able to do something about that, coupled with heavy weapons on the ground, but the Calavari Valeries had long since vanished from the skies of Lrat, and only bits and pieces of military units were left scattered across the planet trying to claim some minor victories or, like Bronsor’s group, just trying to stay alive.
He’d seen what the Nestafar had been doing in Sassma on his way out, taking a moment to look back from atop a hillside in the forest. They weren’t capturing the city or taking prisoners…they were razing it, with their walkers moving in through the buildings and methodically taking them apart one plasma blast after another.
Bronsor doubted many would have survived, save for fleeing into the forest as he had, but like he’d seen, the Nestafar had scout patrols out hunting the survivors down, so this really looked like their last stand, scattered amongst the trees wondering whether they’d die of Nestafar plasma or starvation.
He wasn’t ready to give up all hope yet, for so long as he lived there was a chance he could kill at least one more of the bastards that were annihilating his people. So he pushed on, weary and wobbly as he was, walking slow but steadily towards the training outpost that one of the local soldiers had marked on a map before evacuating.
Bronsor wasn’t from Sassma, but rather he and the others of his unit had been shifted here after the defeat at Nonssa, and before that at the primary spaceports in Luissen. Originally he’d been assigned to a counterattacking army that had got its ass royally kicked during the first months of the planetary assault, then he and the survivors had been bounced from one defensive position to another, until now there was nowhere left to evacuate to, nor anyone to do the evacuating.
Another couple hours went by before he heard another shot, this one further away and Nestafar…quickly followed by several more. Eager to get some payback, Bronsor spotted the nearest high ground and found a gap in the trees wide enough that he could see partially around the perimeter, because he didn’t think he had the strength left to climb up any of them.
He didn’t have to, for off in the distance, hovering just above the tree line, were a trio of Nestafar infantry firing down on what was probably another member of his unit. They’d intentionally scattered, all heading for the training outpost from different angles to keep from giving their position or their heading away…but also close enough that they could support each other should one of them get attacked.
Bronsor dropped his own rifle on the ground, then held up the one he’d gotten from Chavva and activated the long range holographic sight on top, seeing the three targets appear before zooming in on them while trying to hold the rifle still.
Having two arms on it helped greatly, but he reached over with his other two for extra stability as he saw one of the three Nestafar fall to a golden plasma lance from far off to his left, meaning one of the others was sniping as well. Bronsor fired off a shot, missing badly, then pulled the trigger four more times before finally dropping one of the remaining two out of the air. He wasn’t sure if it was dead or just winged, but he hoped if it was the later that whoever was down on the ground would finish it off personally.
The third flier went evasive, but the other sniper took it down and Bronsor deactivated the sight on his rifle and got moving again, knowing that he and the others couldn’t linger. He was also angry with himself for using 5 shots on one target. No matter how weak he was getting he shouldn’t have missed 4 times. That was just wasted ammo.
The Calavari walked on…and on…and on, eventually coming to the approximate location where the training outpost was supposed to be, wondering by now if it was even real, or if it had just been a false hope given to him and what remained of his unit as they fled the city. Realizing there wasn’t anything else to do aside from lay down or die, he kept looking around for another hour until he spotted a Calavari who flagged him down and motioned him to come over.
Relieved that at least he wouldn’t have to die alone, he trudged across the forest, now with every step feeling as if his large feet were dragging weights on them. When he got close to where the other was situated, it stepped out and offered him its top two fists, which Bronsor tapped back in a welcoming gesture.
“Good to see another friendly face. Name’s Atriaacs.”
“Bronsor. I was told there was a training outpost around here.”
“There is,” the Calavari said to Bronsor’s relief. “I’d point you in the right direction, but you look like you can barely stand. Follow me,” he said, taking one of the rifles from Bronsor to lighten his load.
“It’s almost out.”
“We have replacement packs,” Atriaacs said as they weaved their way between the tree trunks, which were thicker in this part of the forest, leaving less aerial visibility, though there were still occasional breaks where the sky could be seen. “Every weapon is useful. It was good of you to bring two.”
“The rest of my unit should be here soon, if not already.”
“We will find and bring them in if they get here. This location is well hidden. Hopefully we can outlast the Nestafar…and give them a good fight if we can’t. Their walkers can’t get up here, so you walking all this way wasn’t for naught. Just a little further now.”
“Do I look that bad?” Bronsor asked.
The other Calavari turned around as he continued to walk and gave him a once over glance. “Yes.”
Bronsor tried to laugh, but his throat was so dry it came out as a cough.
Atriaacs waved to someone ahead of him in the forest, then pointed Bronsor ahead.
“He’ll take you the rest of the way in. I have to return to my post.”
Bronsor nodded his thanks, but didn’t speak again as the Calavari went their separate ways. He walked up to another of his four-armed kin and was escorted up over a short ridge, then down to the bottle of a bowl-like depression that held a number of trees and one well camouflaged entrance to a subsurface base.
“Food and water inside…get yourself patched up,” the other sentry said, clapping him on the back and sending him down.
Bronsor walked down the narrow steps, trying to keep his dizzy head from losing its balance. He managed to get down the three flights, then stepped off onto a stone floor with a pair of armed guards standing watch. They hurried him inside the facility, which looked like a basic hideout. No power or equipment, just hollowed out tunnels connecting empty rooms that had begun to be filled with portable equipment and supplies.
Ceiling lights were stick-ons, battery powered, as was everything else. Bronsor was eventually escorted into a larger room with a number of portable bunks, half of which were occupied, but his eyes went straight to the water keg set on a table. He walked over and downed several cups worth before a higher ranking Calavari could get over to him.
“Easy there, or you’ll choke. How many of you got through?” the slightly taller soldier said, handing Bronsor a foodstuff package.
“There were 12 of my unit that got out of the city, along with a handful of others. We split up to avoid attention. Other than hearing rifle shots, I haven’t had any contact with them…aside from a body.”
“No comms?”
“There was word that the Nestafar were tracking them, so we left them in the city.”
“Get some rest,” the larger Calavari said, placing a hand on Bronsor’s head and giving it a slight double tap. “You did well in getting here.”
“For what it’s worth,” he said, opening the package and biting into a hard ration, his jaw aching from lack of activity.
“We’re not dead yet.”
Bronsor nodded, then what he assumed was the commander walked off leaving him alone. He sucked down another cup of water then walked over and sat down on a bunk, feeling like his legs weren’t going to allow him to get back up again. He ate the contents of the package, all three items, then laid down, still feeling hungry but knowing from experience that he had enough in his stomach…it was just a matter of time before digestion kicked in and got the food into his bloodstream.
Bronsor woke up some time later, realizing he had nodded off without noticing. The room was empty, with the other occupants having left him to sleep. He found that odd, then heard people scurrying around elsewhere in the outpost, with him fearing the worst. Forcing himself to sit up, he looked for his rifle that had been at the foot of his bunk, but it was gone.
Guessing that it had been added to the communal armory, he stood up and stumbled his way to the open doorway and out into the hall, following the commotion until he caught up with the others.
“What’s going on?” he asked to the backs of half a dozen of them.
“We don’t know,” Dwermat said, doing a double take. “Good to see you again, Bronsor.”
“Likewise,” he said, walking up to the group and trying to look over their shoulders.
Up on the surface the Calavari commander strained his hearing, barely able to pick up the sound his sentries had heard but were unable to identify. It had a repeating pattern, not identical, but rhythmic…and not anything of either Calavari or Nestafar make.
The commander slowly cracked a smile, then pointed upwards to the nearest of the sentries before he jumped up and grabbed a low tree branch and began climbing.
“What is it?” the sentry asked halfway up.
“It’s a battle song,” the heavy Calavari said, having to carefully select branches that could hold his weight, though he had no trouble lifting himself from one to another using all four of his muscular arms. “A call to arms.”
“Nestafar?”
“No, of course not.”
“I didn’t know we had battle songs?”
“Not like this, no. If I’m right, it’s one of our allies,” the commander said, getting up high enough to push his head up into clean air. “And they’ve got a ship nearby transmitting.”
“Which ally?” the sentry said, coming up on another tree nearby.
The commander’s smile went from understated to full blossom as he saw the tiny block of a starship hovering over the distant city of Sassma and firing down on it with blue plasma.
“Humans,” he said casually, then he raised his voice and shouted back down to the base and the rest of the nearby sentries. “Humans! Our allies have arrived! The Humans are here!”
“So’s our enemy,” the sentry pointed out, extending an arm to the southeast, almost in line with where the city lay.
“Damn them…get everyone armed,” he ordered at seeing the flock of fliers wheeling about and heading their way thanks to his shouting. One last glance at their approximate position and he started climbing back down in a hurry.
“Get a comm to the Humans,” he said as he came down, with the others in the outpost surrounding the entrance as they came up, some with weapons, some not. “Let them know where we are and take up defensive positions. We’ve got Nestafar infantry coming in from that direction,” he said, pointing.
Those with weapons gave him a few excited nods and moved out, while the others filed back inside ahead of him.
Bronsor came up to the surface a few minutes later, having found himself a fully loaded plasma rifle, and moved to one of the better sniping positions outlined by those that had been here longer than him. By the time he got there he only had a few seconds before the sound of wing beats obscured the music of ‘The Imperial March’ that the Human warship was blaring across the landscape. He didn’t know what the sound was, but to him it meant hope and help, only now they were going to have to stay alive on their own merits a bit longer…and that was a fight he was more than up for.
He set himself against the side of a thick tree trunk and aimed up through a gap in the canopy as plasma fire from both sides overrode the thrumming of the wing beats. A moment later a group of Nestafar flew over in a hurry and he fired up at them, tagging one in the wing and causing it to fall into the treetops, but it didn’t come down to the forest floor.
Bronsor fired again and again every time a Nestafar passed over, seeing red plasma come raining down through the leaves where their enemy wouldn’t. Two deadly raindrops hit the ground near him, but he didn’t get hit and continued to fire back up at every enemy he could see while the other Calavari did the same.
Then a tree fell nearby, having been cut off at the trunk by a series of plasma hits. It dragged a couple of others over with it, exposing a larger swath of sky that Bronsor used to his advantage, knocking down two Nestafar in quick shots…then he had to duck behind his own tree as the enemy swarm dropped lower into the opening and fired on him and the others.
Bronsor ducked back out for a quick shot, seeing some 6 Nestafar blow apart into confetti when he fired. He knew instantly that it wasn’t his doing, but that of a Calavari scattergun…but where in the world had a Valerie come from?
Before he could wonder a gray blur flashed by overhead, skimming the trees and poaching the Nestafar, which was when he realized it wasn’t a Valerie, but one of the Human skeets whom the Calavari had gifted with the scattergun technology.
As the bits and pieces of Nestafar bodies fell down onto the felled tree Bronsor smiled for the first time in weeks. The Calavari leadership had chosen their allies well.
5
August 28, 2439
Renx System
Lrat
Bronsor walked up into the back of the Human dropship, which had squeezed itself down in between several trees to get low enough to the ground. The alien gray/white ship was a welcome sight in the morning light, after a long night of watching the plasma flashes over in Sassma. The battle there had apparently ended in the Humans’ favor, for their warship hung over the city most of the night before flying off less than an hour ago, and now they’d sent one of their transports to pick up the Calavari survivors.
There were 38 of them in the training outpost, with only 22 of them having fit into the first transport. It had left Bronsor and the others behind, waiting on this one, which the Calavari was more than glad to climb aboard.
The ceiling was a bit low, but at least they didn’t have to duck down. A few of the Calavari ahead of him sat on the Humans’ low benches while the rest of them, Bronsor included, stood in what appeared to be the cargo section of the craft as the rear hatch sealed up and the dropship lifted off. One Human, nearly their height, stood in gleaming white armor at the entrance to the cockpit, separating them from the pilots as it answered questions.
It seemed Sassma had already been evacuated with only a handful of survivors being found. Bronsor and the others were being transported up to a Human ship while their fleet was out pounding the Calavari across the planet and evacuating all the survivors they could find…meaning they were either conceding the planet to the Nestafar or there were no intact Calavari cities left to move them into.
The trip up to orbit was uneventful. The Humans had small handheld screens on which exterior views could be monitored, for their ship had no windows. Bronsor didn’t get a chance to see one, though he was curious as to how many ships the Humans had brought with them, but most of all he was relieved to be alive and leaving the planet he had once called home. It had become a graveyard, and short of a major effort to rebuild he no longer wanted to be here with the memories of what had occurred.
His mind flashed back to Chavva, who would still have been standing beside him now if he’d only held out a little longer. At the time he’d agreed the situation was hopeless, but was both saddened and proud now. He had survived long enough for help to come, but Chavva could have done the same if he’d only been a bit more stubborn.
As the Human ship left the atmosphere and accelerated up towards the waiting fleet, Bronsor began to feel the effects of having escaped near death…for now his mind was starting to unnumb and a wealth of emotions that he’d been suppressing were beginning to play out, though he managed to keep them off his face as he and the others rode quietly in the back of the Human ship.
Eventually they landed and the hatch behind Bronsor cracked open, lowering into a ramp that he and the others walked down with a host of the shorter Humans waiting for them…but across the huge hangar deck they now stood on there were other Human vessels flying in and unloading more Calavari survivors, which was a welcome sight. Up until now he didn’t know if anyone aside from his unit had survived, and right here in front of him was at least 1,000.
“Welcome to the Hermes 18,” a dark blue uniformed Human said in the trade language as it stepped out in front of them. “This jumpship is going to be your refuge in the near future, and we need to organize your survivors according to your skills. If any of you are techs, please step forward and follow this woman,” the attendant said, pointing to a yellow haired Human in an identical dark blue uniform.
“We are all soldiers,” one of the Calavari beside Bronsor told the Human.
“In that case, follow him.”
Another Human stepped up, held up its hand, then walked off leading them to wherever they were destined to go. After a couple of exchanged glances the Calavari complied, with Bronsor stepping third in line as they dropped into single file on their own accord, much as the rest of the Calavari across the expansive deck were doing.
Once they were several steps away from the dropship the entry port came into view, and outside of it through the containment energy fields Bronsor could see six other Human ships stacked closely nearby, all jumpships. He wished he could see more, but there was a narrow tunnel leading to the outside of the ship that constricted his view, but it was clear that the Humans had come here in large numbers, despite their much smaller populated race.
He looked around at the others, seeing a large number of females and infants…lots of infants, in fact, coming off a trio of the Human ships. They must have evacuated a training brood that the Nestafar hadn’t gotten to, which was fortunate, given their enemy targeted them specifically once they broke into their cities.
Bronsor followed the Calavari in front of him as they left the hangar deck and moved into the ship…which to his surprise had Calavari height hallways. He’d expected it to be compact, but that wasn’t the case.
Eventually they arrived at a set of stairs which they climbed…and climbed, until they got off on an upper level and were led to an area with other Calavari, where the Human dropped them off. Bronsor walked inside the large doors that two of the bigger Humans guarded and was met by a higher ranking Calavari that got them moving through a series of checkpoints where they turned in any equipment they were carrying, removed their clothes, had a quick but thorough injury check, then were shuffled into a bath house.
Bronsor washed off the grime he’d accumulated over the past few days with the ice-cold water jets the Calavari preferred. How and why the Humans had such things built into their ship he didn’t know, but it felt good to find some familiarity on the alien jumpship, and the cleaning did his mood a world of good.
When he exited the cleansing station he found Calavari-sized clothing of Human make, and while it wasn’t familiar material it fit well, as did the boots that they somehow knew to make in the standard Calavari sizes. Apparently they’d come prepared as a relief ship, having gotten information from other Calavari…which made Bronsor worry about how the war was progressing across their territory, if they were assisting the Humans in creating relief ships rather than warships.
The accommodations were none the less welcome, as was the pallet of foodstuffs available outside the dressing area. It was all Human food, but with enough familiarity to suggest that there had been a Calavari cook involved in its preparation. Bronsor filled up a triangular plate and sat down on Calavari-sized tables along with others dressed in the same red clothing as him…and who were having similar reactions to the Humans’ knowledge of Calavari needs, for there was a lot of low level chatter going on amongst the tables and not in the trade language, which they figured was what the Humans would understand.
Bronsor would get no answers as to what they were doing here, but he did hear numerous stories from across the planet, all of which were thoroughly depressing. Their defensive effort had been a total rout, with the number of survivors coming in from various locations occurring only in handfuls.
After he and the others finished eating they were directed into another nearby chamber that held 50 or so seats, also of Calavari size, and once they were filled the door was shut and another Calavari commander stood before them along with a Human.
“I have been here a few days longer than you,” the Calavari began, speaking the trade language for the benefit of the Human, “so I’ve had more time to process what is going on. At first I didn’t like it, but now that I’ve had time to think it through, and the fact that they’re giving us a choice, I have come to respect the Humans’ plan. We all owe them a debt for saving us. On that merit alone, hear him out.”
The Calavari beside the Archon crossed both sets of arms over its chest and remained silent, offering the short man a ‘go ahead’ nod.
“You are fighting the Nestafar,” the level 65 adept began, wearing his casual white uniform rather than armor onboard on the jumpship, “but despite your long history with them, the true enemy is the Cajdital. The Nestafar are fighting you on their behalf, and doing a damn good job of it.”
That caused a bit of stir amongst the seated Calavari, some of whom were mere hours past active combat with their longtime nemesis. The higher ranking Calavari raised one hand to settle them, but didn’t take sleight at the Human’s words.
“They have devoted their entire military to destroying you, and you in turn have devoted your entire civilization towards your defense…and while you have the help of the Alliance, you are still fighting the Cajdital on another front, as is most of the Alliance, which means that none of us can devote our full strength to helping you. Star Force is, at this moment, engaging the Cajdital on a battlefield far from here where they are encroaching on our territory, and we have split our resources and fleets between fighting there, and fighting the Nestafar here.”
“We believe the Cajdital are biding their time, using the Nestafar to either destroy or cripple the Calavari, leaving you nearly defenseless for when they make a larger push. Or perhaps they mean to go after the Bsidd or the Kvash…and you won’t be in a position to help them. Regardless of how they plan to proceed, the Nestafar are intent on destroying you, and the Cajdital mean to use this blood feud between you to their own advantage.”
“The bottom line is, you can’t win this war. The Nestafar are too powerful of a match for you. Even now, as your fleets see victory in key star systems, dozens of others are being abandoned…not by choice, but by lack of available resources. Lrat is one of those worlds, and I don’t need to remind you what happened down there.”
“But I can tell you that this is happened across Calavari territory. Up until recently, Star Force has had roving fleets attacking Nestafar targets rather than establishing defensive lines around your worlds and waiting for the enemy to come to us. We’ve killed many of their ships, their fleets, and their pesky walkers because we’ve been able to choose our battlefields. You have not had that luxury.”
“While our approach is working, it is not enough. Our population is small compared to yours, as is our fleet. We don’t have the numbers to hurt the Nestafar enough to push them back, but we have no intention of letting our Calavari brothers be wiped out…not by the Nestafar…not by the Cajdital…so we’ve come up with a different strategy.”
The Archon activated a large hologram set behind him and the Calavari commander that showed the most recent map of Calavari territory they had.
“The Red is secure territory, the Yellow is Nestafar held worlds, with the Blue being systems that are current under contention. The Green is worlds that you still hold, but are so weakened that the Nestafar can take control of them at will, if they choose to devote the resources.”
Bronsor looked at the sea of blue, with only small patches of red remaining…he also noticed the black on the opposite side that he knew marked Cajdital-held worlds. Near it was a narrow slice of blue, indicating that they weren’t making a major push forward, but were still inching their way in.
“Star Force has decided to hit as many Yellow worlds were we can, as Lrat just was, and evacuate their populations. Same goes for Green worlds. Both of these categories are beyond the ability of the Calavari government to affect, for they’ve got their hands full fighting in the Blue and defending the Red.”
“Star Force is evacuating as many off these worlds as we can get to all the while hitting Nestafar targets. When we take out their ships on their low priority worlds they have a choice to make…leave them undefended or move troops away from battering the rest of you to counter us. We’ve retaken many worlds since we’ve been out here simply because they don’t have the ships to send to take them back, but long term, it’s the key systems that are going to determine the outcome…while worlds like Lrat get abandoned by both the Calavari and Nestafar.”
“Eventually someone will come back to claim them, and there’s a good chance that it’ll be the Cajdital. We don’t like that, so Star Force is claiming them…or rather, their populations. We know the Calavari need every military asset they can get to fight this war and defend the worlds you already hold, which is why we’re not asking them to participate in this endeavor. We’re picking up people like you…who have been cut off from reinforcements and resupply. Many of whom are starving to death.”
“We’re taking your females, your young ones, your techs, your medics, and other civilians out of the war zone…far out of it, to a planet where they will be safe. There Star Force is beginning to rebuild the Calavari civilization using our resources, our tech, and creating a fallback point should either the Nestafar or Cajdital defeat you.”
“Now hear me out,” the Archon said as some of the Calavari began to get up out of their seats in livid protest. “Please, you’re not the only ones to react like this. If we take you back to your territory, they’re not going to have room for you. Refugees from thousands of worlds have been fleeing back to your safe systems, and as a result they are overloaded. Food shortages are common, with strict rationing taking place.”
“I know you want to return home, and if I was in your position I would not be running away from a fight…which is why we are willing to return you, the soldiers, to a safe Calavari world where you can rejoin your military and do what you can against the Nestafar. You are fighters, as am I, and we will not deny you that path if you wish it, but we will not send your civilians back only to face another Nestafar attack. We are taking them away and helping them rebuild, combining what they know and what we know, and making a stronger Calavari civilization…one that, if we work quickly, could send fleets and troops back here to fight before this war is over.”
“Whether that happens or not, we intend to give your people an escape route, a fighting retreat back to new territory we are providing you. We are not going to let the Calavari be annihilated, even if all we can save is a small piece of your empire.”
The Calavari commander dropped its lower left hand onto the Archon’s shoulder, knowing that he was done speaking, for they’d gone through this speech many times already.
“If you wish to return to the fight, I can understand that,” the four-armed giant said with a deep voice that seemed to calm down the rest of them. “The Humans have offered us training and equipment, of which I have been able to witness a small amount of here. Their skill is not to be underestimated. I would ask that some of you go with them…learn from them, and build a stronghold for the rest of us to flee to, if the war should go ill for us.”
“However, there is a third option. I am not returning to our military, despite the sense of duty I know you all feel. I have requested, and the Humans’ have granted, permission to join their warfleet that is fighting the Nestafar and rescuing survivors such as we just were. The more of us that we can return to the fight, the better it will be for all Calavari. Those of you who wish to stay with me, we will be fighting the Nestafar again within weeks!”
“What training?” Bronsor asked, swallowing hard as the others turned to look at him, realizing he had spoken out of turn. “What do you think you can teach us?”
“A fair question,” the Calavari commander agreed, dismissing the impertinence of the question, given the situation they found themselves in. Normally Calavari didn’t interrupt a superior, rather saving questions and comments until after they were done speaking. “Come forward.”
Bronsor stood up and walked to an aisle, his mind reeling from the choice before him. Running away felt like dishonor, not returning to the Calavari military seemed like abandoning his duty, and going back felt like a drawn out death sentence, leaving the soldier thoroughly conflicted.
The commander glanced at the Archon, who offered a nod of agreement.
“Pin this one to the floor, if you can,” the commander said, gesturing to the Archon, who took a step away and dropped his shoulders an inch or so into a combat stance.
Bronsor frowned, but did as he was told, not seeing much challenge in it. The Human was tiny.
When he reached for it with his upper arms he had them knocked away with blindingly fast punches, then a small hand grabbed his huge wrist and yanked, pulling the Calavari forward and off balance.
Bronsor reached out with all four hands, grabbing for the Human that was no longer there. It had backed up and moved to the side. The Calavari stumbled forward, keeping from falling, but as he stood back up and started to turn in the direction his opponent had moved he caught a hard elbow in the waist just below his right arm.
Bronsor bent into the blow, then found a thin arm looping around his neck from behind, followed by a kick to the back of his knee that crumpled his left leg. He fell backwards, but as he did the arm vanished and he hit the floor without squashing the Human…who quickly appeared over top of him, planting a palm against his forehead and using its full weight to pin it in place so he couldn’t sit up.
“Enough,” the commander said before Bronsor could swat at him with his huge arms.
The Archon let go and stood up, taking a step back as Bronsor did the same.
“As I said, they have many skills, despite their missing arms. Will you accept the challenge of learning from them, and helping teach the others we send after you?” he said in the Calavari’s native language, making it a more personal request now that the Human was out of the loop.
“Promise me I will see combat again.”
“I don’t need to promise you what you already know. We have more enemies at our throats than we can deal with. There will be no shortage of fighting in the years to come.”
“Very well,” Bronsor said, making his choice. “If this is what you think is wise.”
“I know it is. We need a future to fight for, and this is our chance,” the commander said, turning his giant head and looking out at the others still in their seats. “Who else will go?”
6
October 8, 2439
Jasne System
Drema
Bronsor had mixed feelings, seeing many of his comrades departing the Human jumpship via their oddly shaped dropships to head down to the surface of the Calavari world they now orbited. Many more Calavari had chosen to stay onboard and make the trip back to the promised world the Humans were claiming to give them, though most were females and techs. Very few soldiers had agreed to go, and he just felt out of place.
But he’d made a commitment and he intended to see it through. While everyone else was scrambling to fight the Nestafar, he would be attempting to build the groundwork for a new Calavari army, comprised of forgotten and abandoned soldiers that the Humans were gratefully rescuing. For that much, at least, he figured he owed them, for had they not come to Lrat he would probably have been dead by now.
That didn’t make it any easier seeing the others leave. Those Calavari that were staying behind to help in the rescue efforts had already departed piecemeal to other Human ships, but this mass exodus had a different feel to it, partly because Bronsor knew they would be leaving Calavari territory shortly thereafter…at which point he’d be entirely in Human hands.
After watching the departing refugees board their craft and saying farewells to the few he knew personally, the Calavari retreated into one of the Humans’ training areas and continued to work through their fitness program he’d started over a month ago. It was challenging enough to distract him from most of the negative thoughts swirling through his mind, and was altering his body in a way to increase his speed while decreasing his muscle mass…something that he also had mixed feelings about.
He and the other soldiers onboard trained constantly, while the civilian Calavari had other tasks to keep themselves busy with. The Humans had prepped their transport ships well, so that even before they could get their passengers back to the new world, they were training them for what they would need to do upon arrival rather than wasting precious time sitting stagnantly onboard ship.
Ever since the ‘demonstration’ his first day onboard, Bronsor had wanted to spar with one of their Archons again, but unfortunately none were left onboard for the journey back to their territory. That he could understand, given that they were warriors who wanted to be where the action was, making him feel even more out of place, save for the fact that some of the bigger Humans were onboard and proving to be a nearly even match, despite the fact that they had only two arms. They were called ‘Knights’ in the Human tongue, and Bronsor had been told that their training and what the Calavari were going to be put through were quite similar.
Once the jumpship departed along with 5 others carrying Calavari, not to mention a slew of Human cargo ships escorted by only a single warship, Bronsor and the others spent the next 4 months training in four sessions per Human day. That kept him busy with little time to think, complain, or sorrow…with him grateful for the constant activity. The Humans knew well how to treat their fellow soldiers.
When they eventually arrived at their destination Bronsor and the other Calavari were flown down to the surface via dropship, and this time the Calavari did get one of their ‘datapads’ so he could observe what was outside. They were no longer packed inside the back, shoulder to shoulder, but seated at regular intervals that gave them plenty of leg room, though the Human seats were clearly designed for two-armed individuals with no indented arm rests for their lower set.
But that didn’t matter to Bronsor, who’d gotten accustomed to the Human designs. He was interested in seeing this new planet the Calavari would be building on, and as soon as the dropship left the jumpship’s bay he got a view of one of the Human stations in nearby orbit. It was perfectly round and colored deep gray like most of their ships were, and he knew from his recent reading that it was what they called a ‘seda,’ but because of the color he knew it didn’t belong to Canderous, which always had green sedas. That meant it was a Star Force seda, placed here as both an outpost and battle station to guard orbit and the planet below.
The soldier in him wanted to know how they fought, for the Humans hadn’t provided any battle footage, only schematics and general details.
As the dropship passed it by and moved down into the planet’s atmosphere the exterior cameras clouded up a bit by the aerial disruption, then cleared again letting the Calavari see the city below them on the arid planet. Bronsor knew there was no vegetation or native lifeforms, but the atmosphere and gravity were habitable, and would allow them to begin seeding the planet with forests if they could scrape up enough water from beneath the surface…otherwise they’d have to find a way to recycle the carbon dioxide into oxygen artificially.
That wouldn’t be a problem inside sealed cities, but if they wanted to roam free on the surface it would eventually become a problem…and one that the Humans seemed to be on top of already, for he could see a narrow stripe of green around the northern edge of one of their cities, three of which could be seen on the small datapad he held in his hand. The one they were headed for was a military city, where the new Calavari army was going to be trained, with the females and infants being located elsewhere.
As the dropship descended to the middle of the three visible cities, the other two slowly disappeared over the horizon and the landscape below them opened up into a very alien cityscape, far larger than Bronsor had expected it to be. He’d been told that the Calavari would be using Human tech in addition to anything they could build of their own on site, but he hadn’t realized how much infrastructure the Humans had already prepared for them.
The city below them could hold millions of Calavari, judging by the size, making it abundantly clear, along with everything else the Humans had done for them, that their allies were overly intent on reestablishing the Calavari powerbase here, so that they could recover their strength and help the Humans in the war against both the Nestafar and the Cajdital.
When the dropship landed and the rear hatch opened, Bronsor walked out onto the surface of his new home and looked up into the sky on the landing pad, seeing a slight pink haze and tasting the dry air as any doubts as to his coming here erased themselves from his mind. This was a place of power, and a sign of the respect the Humans had for the Calavari, making his success here all the more important, both to his own race and their ally.
Purpose…that’s what he was feeling, and that’s what had been lost on him for some time now. This city, this world surged with hope, drive, and above all else, purpose. This was the Calavari’s future, even if they did manage to hold onto key systems in the war zone. Here they would build a force capable of rescuing the others…and that felt right to him in a way he couldn’t fully articulate.
Fortunately he didn’t have to, for he and the other Calavari remained silent as they walked across the exterior spaceport deck and were passed on to another Human handler that showed them into and through the city, first onboard a hovertruck that took them along the city streets that were a mix of both Humans and Calavari pedestrians, as well as a number of other hovering vehicles. They also passed one of the Humans’ upright walkers as it stomped its way between buildings, loaded with weapon pods.
Bronsor huffed his approval as they passed, as did several of the others beside him in the open aired vehicle that held 8 of them plus a driver. Their Human attendant stood beside the also Human driver without sitting, then led them off and into another blocky Human building when they’d arrived at their destination.
Inside they were given individualized quarters, learning that this was the Humans’ form of a military barracks. To Bronsor it seemed like a lot of wasted space but he didn’t complain, for the sizing was all Calavari, right down to the table tops and doorways, making the few Humans walking around look especially tiny.
He was given an access code for the door, and showed how he could alter it to whatever he wanted, not seeing the point. Calavari didn’t use locked doors except where outsiders were concerned. If your fellow soldiers couldn’t be trusted not to steal your stuff, then there was no way they could be trusted on the battlefield. None the less, with so many Humans around Bronsor thought it was an acceptable safety precaution, despite the fact that he didn’t have any possessions to steal, nor did any of the others.
That was to change within a few hours, when their handler took them ‘shopping’ for all types of gear and personal items…all Human produced for the Calavari. Bronsor picked out several uniforms that he felt were acceptable, along with a comm device, datapad, data chips, person grooming device, and an assortment of other things that he’d not had the luxury of owning on the jumpship. He and the others carried multiple boxes full of items back to their quarters and began organizing them, taking away the empty feeling the multi-roomed chambers had as they were given the rest of the day off to settle in.
Bronsor roamed around the building, then went out with a few of the others to scout the nearby area, discovering that while the architecture was Human, the buildings’ functions were familiarly Calavari. Everything was different, with a Human feel to it, but this had been designed as a city for the Calavari and followed many of their traditions…including a wrestling bar where they could lightly spar with one another over drinks, except that the Humans didn’t allow for any intoxicating or damaging confections.
In their place they had a wide range of new liquids and snacks, most of which Bronsor actually took a liking to. He spent the next several hours there with the scattering of other Calavari in what he learned was still a very low populated city. It was near empty, in fact, making him and the others some of the first evacuees to arrive.
Bronsor squared off with a tech, taking the slightly smaller Calavari down quickly 3 out of 4 times while having to work a bit harder on the fourth. Neither was injured, and the wrestling gave both of them a way to blow off steam against someone they weren’t familiar with, offering a refreshing sparring challenge compared to his fellow soldiers whose fighting styles he’d grown familiar with.
From the tech he learned that the Humans, who preferred to be called Star Force, were having the Calavari learn their tech as well as teach them theirs as they designed new equipment specifically for the Calavari…including their own version of combat walkers to replace the tanks they traditionally used, though they were also upgrading those into remotely controlled drones, similar to the Star Force warfleet.
Bronsor asked many questions, and the techs were eager to talk with their own kin after being surrounded by Humans for most of the day. At first, they admitted, they’d taken affront to Star Force redesigning their military, as if it hadn’t been good enough, despite the fact that the Calavari empire was infinitely stronger than the Human’s tiny territory, but quickly enough they saw it was combat efficiency that they were after. They wanted to keep existing troops deployments intact by building better equipment to protect the soldier, rather than training more soldiers to replace those that were lost.
It was then that Bronsor learned how old some of the Humans were, and he suddenly understood the logic behind their military peculiarities. Some of them were hundreds of years old, with combat experience eclipsing the eldest Calavari…and they did it by making what normally would have been death blows into survivable defeats.
That also told Bronsor that Star Force, small as it was in numbers, was far more powerful than others gave them credit for. For if they could preserve what they had, they could face down much larger enemies and prevail due to attrition being in their favor. The more Bronsor learned from the other Calavari who’d been here for a while, the more impressed he was becoming with the Humans and curious as to what else they had to offer in this newfound brotherhood.
He eventually left the bar and returned to his quarters, sleeping well and too shortly, for his fatigue was greater than he’d realized. When his wakeup call came, he reported for training duty along with the others at the base of the building and was carried off through an underground transit system to a much larger facility, inside of which there were other Calavari soldiers going through a series of training drills…some he recognized, others that were entirely foreign.
As he learned quickly enough, there were no training sessions here…just a long, arduous day with short breaks, none long enough for them to leave the facility. Bronsor was almost ashamed at how out of shape he was compared to the Human trainers that were doing the same workouts alongside them and were barely showing any fatigue. Most of them were Knights, but a handful were the tiny Archons who were unbelievably fast, not to mention overly strong for their size.
Bronsor returned to his quarters at the end of the day with a couple of hours of free time to spare before heading to bed, but he was too tired to go anywhere so he just crashed on the circular pad that was one type of Calavari couch and turned on the vid screen. Half of the available channels were in the Human language, with the other half mostly being in the trade language. Two were native Calavari, but they weren’t the news programs he wanted, so he sat in the glory of sore muscles and well-earned fatigue, for Star Force was very keen on running workouts, and watched/listened to the planetary updates from Calavari commentators in the trade language.
His interest kept him awake for half an hour, then he woke up to find that he’d dozed off for another 45 minutes in what felt like a matter of seconds. Pulling himself up and into his sleeping room he committed himself to an early start on his sleep cycle…only to begin again the next day in an arduous routine that would slowly transform his muscular form into a tight, fast, and powerful frame some months later.
Only then would he realize that he’d completed basic training…and was going to advance to the next level of even harder trials.
7
July 3, 2440
Prolio System
HTC
Bronsor woke up bleary eyed as normal, pulling himself off his sleeping pad and dressing in a rush. He had to get down to the cafeteria and grab something to eat before the others left for training. Normally he’d allow himself a bit more time to wake up, but today was special and he didn’t want to lag behind.
Apparently the others felt the same, for when he got down to the eating hall most of them were already chowing down on foodstuff bars and cakes, all of Human fashion and designed not to be a drag on the stomach…though the Calavari still knew better than to overload himself with fuel before entering a training session. Their trainers didn’t take it easy on them, with heavy workouts hitting them the moment they arrived rather than seeing a gradual transition, so he carefully chose a plateful of items and a single bottle of water and began eating as fast as he could.
He made up some time and left about middle of the pack, hopping into the subsurface rail lines that took him over to his designated training facility where he and the other ‘advanced’ students were shuffled off into a sort of briefing room, breaking with their normal routine. Inside there were no chairs, but rather a lighted demonstration area surrounded by stacks of crates, by which several of their Human trainers were standing…along with an Archon in his white uniform, though this one had a green stripe down the side.
Bronsor stiffened. He’d learned about Star Force’s various ranks and knew that very few of the Humans rated a green stripe. It meant this person was what they called a ‘ranger’ and was one of their war leaders. Had he not seen what the other lower ranking Archons were capable of he would have assumed this Human was a fit weakling, judging by his size, but Bronsor’s eyes had become accustomed to sizing up their smaller race and he could tell by looking at him that this one was different, despite the uniform.
“Today,” Jace-013 began speaking the trade language, “those of you who have progressed to training tier 4 are going to get an upgrade. Traditionally, you’re used to wearing shields as defense in combat…well, we’re one upping that and giving you proper armor, for which you were already measured. These suits are custom fitted for each of you, so no sharing or trading. We have units that can be adjustable, but trust me when I say that your custom set will be far more comfortable and agile than one of the generic ones.”
The trailblazer glanced around the assembled Calavari, some 50 of them, and pointed to one.
“Your name?”
“Nratch,” the larger biped said, looking down towards the Human.
“You get to be first. Step into the circle.”
The Calavari huffed and walked over to the lighted area, leaving the dimly lit remainder of the room where the others were standing. As he came up the handlers opened one of the crates and began pulling out pieces of armor painted bright orange.
“Your armor comes in pieces,” Jace explained. “When you strap it on the various pieces will interlock and you’ll have an airtight seal with a short term backup oxygen supply that will allow you to survive in vacuum for a brief period of time. It will also allow you to move under water and will lock down against airborne toxins automatically. When that happens you need to get to clean air before you run out of reserves, but it will allow you to survive in situations where others won’t if you’re quick enough.”
Nratch stepped up at the prompting of one of the handlers as the Human slid an open boot underneath the Calavari’s thick, pedestal-like foot. When he stepped back down he gained a couple of inches of height, then the handler began cinching up the internal grip lines, ensuring that the boot wouldn’t slip around when moving, then he began locking the hard plates in place over top as Nratch stepped up to receive his other boot.
“The armor has weight, obviously, which will slow your movements. This is why you must train for speed without it, mastering the required movements, then learn to repeat those movements with the extra weight, meaning you will be training in the armor as well. Over time it will become natural, like a second skin, but in the beginning it will be cumbersome and you will be going to bed stiff and sore.”
“The armor has no powered joints, meaning your muscle is what moves it, same as our armor. As you become stronger you will gain access to stronger plates, increasing the durability of the armor in battle. While this may be new to you, it is something we Archons have grown accustomed to over the past 400 years.”
With the boots locked in place and coming up to cover Nratch’s knees, the Calavari stepped up and down in place, testing the weight and traction, then three handlers came over with more sections, the first of which was the cod piece that locked around his waist and looped down between his legs. When it was attached like a belt, the other Humans brought in the upper leg pieces and wrapped them around his tree trunk-like quadriceps.
The halves locked together smoothly, but were still loose where they butted up against the boots and cod piece.
“Now,” Jace said, talking directly to Nratch. “Wiggle around and the pieces should lock together.”
The Calavari wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do, but he followed orders and began moving his leg side to side. Suddenly there was a click on his right knee and the armor became more rigid, but still flexible enough to give him considerable range of movement. Nratch tried to mimic the same motion on the other leg and, after a few attempts, got it to lock as well.
The hip movement was trickier to master, but after several embarrassing attempts in which he almost tipped over and fell, the leg pieces locked into place and the Calavari was fully armored from the waist down.
“You can wear the armor with or without a uniform underneath,” Jace said as the handlers retrieved additional pieces. “On occasion it will bunch up if you leave a crease, so be careful to smooth any out when you put the armor on. The inner gel layer will mold to your body, spreading out concussion from a single point to a wider area, allowing you to hit and get hit harder than normal, but you still have limits, so don’t go jumping off any cliffs and expecting the armor to save you.”
“One advantage you have over our original designs is a built in shield generator,” he said as the torso piece was brought up and wrapped around the Calavari’s huge upper body…huge not only in size but in height, for it stretched out longer than a Human’s to accommodate the two sets of shoulders. “It’s extra protection, and will allow your armor to survive longer, but don’t get in the habit of walking out into the line of fire. That’s not what this armor is for…that’s what your physical shield is for, which we’ll get to later.”
“You are to train and fight in the armor as if you had none on. Over time you will learn how far you can press your advantage, but now that you’re just learning, treat every situation as if you were still exposed…and we have several new training challenges waiting for you that will reinforce that point.”
Nratch’s chest plate latched together with the back piece at multiple points along the side and near the neck, then he wiggled around to get it to attach at the waist without having to be prompted to do so, learning quickly.
“The energy shield will stop plasma and other forms of energy weapons, but it will not stop physical impacts…that’s what the armored plates are for. Later on we might integrate physical shields, but so far it’s been more effective in this manner. We’re constantly experimenting with our own armor, and any advances we make will eventually trickle down to you, so you can consider this to be your prototype armor. By the time you see real combat, you’ll probably have an upgraded version.”
“Now,” Jace continued as the arm pieces were slipped over Nratch’s wrists and pulled up to his shoulders, minus the gloves, “the color. Archon armor is either red, silver, or green at this point…and we’ll be adding another when our skill level merits it. Star Force Regulars have dirty white armor of a similar design, though it’s not identical to ours. The Knights have pure white armor, also of a slightly different design, and the Clans have identical armor to the Regulars, though they’re all individually colored to match their affiliation.”
“Your armor is orange, and designates you as a Calavari Knight. You are, as of this moment, a part of Star Force’s military. Other Calavari soldiers will not possess this armor. What they will have has not yet been determined, nor is it your concern. You are here to train, to learn, and to grow to the point where you will be sent back to fight the Nestafar and Cajdital, and you will do so as an integrated part of Star Force.”
“Obviously, there are differences between you and the Human Knights, both advantages and disadvantages. You will learn from each other, test each other, and make each other better…but be warned, you are infants compared to the rest and still have a long way to go, but today marks the beginning of the Calavari Knights, of which this armor is a symbol, but it’s far more than that. It is a weapon unlike any you’ve used before.”
Nratch wiggled on the first pair of arms, repeated the process with the second, then pulled on the armored gloves he was given, locking those in place. His helmet came last, but it was Jace who brought it to him, hesitating before he handed it over.
“The helmet has comm gear, and access to our battlemap. You haven’t used it yet, but it allows for tracing of allied and enemy units by relaying data from one unit to another. We have a network that shares that data, allowing one set of eyes to be shared by all. There are a few switches inside that you’ll have to learn to use your tongue to manage, but the interface controls are on your forearm gauntlet…lower left, I believe.”
Jace nodded at Nratch, and the Calavari looked around until he found the release, then pulled an armored panel up on a hinge, revealing a slew of large buttons…or large for a Human’s finger, but normal for a Calavari.
“There are a lot of options, which you’ll be educated in later. Know that the helmet is what contains the transmission gear and power pack, and it links in to the other systems at the back of the neck. Those systems are minor, and will not help you move the armor. Again, that comes from muscle power, which you must develop further. The power pack for your energy shields is separate, and located in the torso section.”
Jace handled the Calavari the helmet, who took it up higher than the Archon could reach and slipped it on over his large head, then snapped it into place, completing the air tight seal.
Then suddenly the Calavari was gone…replaced by a bright orange, four-armed Knight.
Jace walked over to another crate and pulled out what looked like a thick suit case with a green helmet attached to the top. He pulled it off and unfurled his own armor into one sprawling piece that he stepped into and locked up inside of 30 seconds, finishing off with his helmet that altered his voice into a slightly more mechanical version.
“Alright guys, suit up. We’ve got some drills to run through.”
Bronsor walked forward with the others, each finding the crate that held their armor. He opened his and pulled out one of the boots, finding it was heavier than he’d expected. He put it on, trying to duplicate the procedure he’d seen with Nratch, and had it halfway fitted before a trainer came around and showed him how to adjust the tension straps.
He got his other boot on with less trouble, then proceeded to the cod piece, thighs, and torso section, making sure to smooth out any wrinkles as he went. He walked around a bit, just a few steps here and there, surprised by the weight/agility level. His movements were smooth, yet slowed, as if he’d suddenly lost a great deal of fitness. He wondered about that as he pulled his arm pieces on one by one, then locked them in place and went for the gloves. Unlike the Archon’s and Human Knights’, the Calavari’s armored hands only had four fingers that were considerably thicker. Fortunately the gloves fit perfectly to his anatomy, allowing him most of his original dexterity while cushioning his digits against the hard plates that now covered them.
Bronsor liked the feel and flexed his hands thoroughly as he shifted around, making sure all the clicks were completed so that his armor was connected properly, then he held up his helmet, looking inside at the tongue switches and hitting one with his finger before sliding it on.
That one was the power switch, which he then tested with his thick tongue, making sure he could reach. He flicked the power off and back on again, then snapped the helmet in place, making connection with the rest of the armor and getting a status diagnostic that showed full strength on his armor plating…or was it his shields?
He wasn’t sure, as most of the internal helmet displays were new to him, but at the prompting of the handlers and the Archon he didn’t worry about it. After all of the Calavari got into their armor Bronsor followed Jace out, feeling his movements were slow yet strong, and walked to a nearby chamber that held a running track.
“Ok, first rule…no stopping, no walking. Run as slow as you have to, but keep going. It’s going to take a while for you to learn the new movements, then a long time to adapt to the armor, so be prepared to suffer for a while,” Jace said, stepping out ahead of the group and down to lane one. “Your size and strength are assets in combat…but it also makes you slow, which is a disadvantage, even for a Knight. You have to lessen this disadvantage, which the armor makes even worse. Today you get four laps in the armor. Try to make it before I get 8 in.”
With that Jace took off around the track and Bronsor’s jaw dropped inside his helmet as he saw how fast his little green armor was moving.
“Move, move, move!” one of the trainers yelled as a pair of Human Knights bumped arms with the Calavari and started pacing them around the track wearing their bright white armor.
Bronsor and the others got going, realizing they were on the clock as Jace disappeared around the first turn. At first the running seemed normal, but by the time he’d gotten past the first 100 meters his body seemed to change its mind and start to drag on him, but as he’d been instructed he slowed down and continued running, not able to keep pace with the white Knights who evenly trudged their way around the track, making it painfully obvious how inferior the Calavari were.
A few brave ones stuck with them for the first lap, heaving their two sets of arms back and forth to maintain rhythm, but they all dropped off pace over the second lap as the Archon came around and lapped them all before they even completed the first circuit. When he passed Bronsor the Calavari was laboring, and he got the message the Human was trying to impart.
Wearing armor required a higher level of strength and skill. It wasn’t just something you put on and you were instantly more combat capable…you had to adjust to it first, meaning that he and the others had to learn to wear it, and that it wasn’t just something that Star Force could give to the rest of the Calavari to use in the war against the Nestafar.
That realization made the Humans all the more impressive, especially the Archon, who moved with such a fluid grace and speed that seemed to defy the physics of his hard plating. Jace finished his 8 laps 100 meters ahead of Bronsor, who crossed the finish line to realize there was a clock running. He marked a 10:53, which was more than 4 minutes slower than his best time of 6:04.
When he crossed the line he almost collapsed, but had the sense to clear the line so others could come across and walked a few steps further, then bent over and breathed deeply, finding that the helmet didn’t cut back on his oxygen intake despite the close cage over his mouth and nose.
“What’s the matter guys,” Jace gloated with his synthesized voice booming from the speakers inside the Calavari’s helmets as he transmitted directly to them over the comm. “That was just an easy run for me, and my armor is a lot denser than yours. Come now, are you going to let a pathetic Human show you up?”
“You are anything but pathetic,” one of the Calavari answered back over his exterior mic, not knowing yet how to respond over the comm.
“No, I’m not,” Jace agreed. “But I’ve had 400 years of training to get this far. You’ve only had a handful of months. Longevity is the key. That’s why we needed you to come here and train instead of going right back at the Nestafar. Training is everything, and with it, you can unlock a power you’ve never known. This armor is the first major piece of that power.”
The trailblazer glanced at one of the Knights, who were noticeably not winded as the Calavari were. He walked over in his white armor and clapped a slightly larger Calavari on the back as it was doubled over, still gasping for air.
“Welcome to Star Force…and a whole new kind of warfare.”
8
March 2, 2441
Prolio System
HTC
Bronsor ducked behind his ‘half’ shield, with several stingers splattering against it from the nearby turret. He kept his helmeted head down, knowing well that the training armor he was wearing wouldn’t absorb the stun energy like his combat set would. Then again, it wouldn’t be much of a challenge if he and the other 5 Calavari on his team could just walk up to the finish pedestal with impunity.
He pulled out one of the specially made stinger pistols Star Force had designed for the Calavari from a hip holster and held it at ready behind his left shield with his lower hand, knowing he was going to have to be quick or get a face full of paint. Bringing his right side half shield around, which was actually more of a 3/4ths version of the Knights’ full shields, he touched the inner edges together, making a wedge that he hid within, hoping the turret wouldn’t hit his exposed feet as he stepped forward.
Bronsor felt the stingers impacting the shield and felt just a hint of numbness entering his forearms as it soaked through the material, but it wasn’t enough to cause him to drop them. Plodding forward under the turret fire he got within 10 meters and cracked the shields apart, popping the pistol out through the gap and firing repeatedly at the target sphere atop the turret with orange paint.
Two of the red stingers got through the gap and hit him in the chest. His arms went weak and his shields split even more, allowing the kill shots through. Bronsor blacked out from multiple hits and keeled over unconscious, only to wake up some time later staring up into the white helmet of a Knight.
“What did you do wrong?” Marshal asked behind the faceplate.
“I opened myself up to attack in order to land a killing shot,” Bronsor answered in English, sitting up and shaking his head clear. One of his armored gloves had been removed to inject him with the destunning serum, which he now pulled back on, looking down at the globs of red paint covering his dull gray armor.
“Stupid,” the elder Knight pronounced. “It takes more than one hit to take down a turret, and you exposed your center line on top of it. You have shields and four arms, use them!”
Marshall stepped back and Bronsor stood up. He was a few inches taller than the Human, but he felt the smaller, for the Knight was far stronger than he could ever hope to be.
“Pick up your shields and weapon.”
Bronsor leaned over and retrieved his gear, seeing none of his team around. The challenge had obviously ended, but he didn’t know if they’d won or lost.
“Repeat what you did.”
Bronsor faced the turret and split his shields slightly, sticking the pistol out into the gap.
“Hold,” Marshal said, walking around in front of him. He grabbed his left shield and pushed it wide, tucking it back along the Calavari’s left shoulders. Then he grabbed the right shield and pulled it across his body so it shielded his torso and came within a few inches of the other shield, but set at nearly a 90 degree angle.
“There, now poke your weapon out.”
Bronsor did as instructed, seeing the improved cover…but little else.
“I cannot see the target,” he said, with the right shield blocking his eye line to the turret.
“And it cannot see you, which is the point.”
“How do I shoot it…guess?”
“Bronsor,” Marshal said harshly, “you have lasted longer than most of the others because you are committed, but commitment doesn’t make a Knight. You have to be smart, and in order to be smart you have to learn to figure some things out for yourself. You have a stationary target…that is all you need to know. Prepare yourself, the turret is going live in 10 seconds.”
The Knight stepped away, leaving the Calavari where he was.
“Oh, and some of the others are too. Get to the finish.”
“As instructed,” Bronsor said, holding position and waiting for the turret to come online. He was trying to figure out how to aim when he couldn’t see, then the paint started flying and he huddled up behind his shields in the form that the Knight had instructed. It worked in so far as allowing his pistol to fire out without him exposing more than his hand, but he couldn’t see what he was shooting at.
He fired off a few shots guessing where the target was…then he remembered what the Knight said. It was a stationary target, meaning a fixed location that wouldn’t alter.
Bronsor took a step to the side and rotated around quickly, bringing the narrow gap between his shields across his eye line for a blink of vision. He rotated back again and repeated several times, mentally approximating where the target sphere was atop the turret with each flash, then he tucked back up to the shields and fired where he remembered it to be.
He fired off 5 shots, then flipped the gap back across his vision, seeing some paint on the underside, meaning he had been shooting low. He fired off another pair blind then check again, whipping the gap across his vision fast enough that it was unlikely a stinger was going to get through in the split second his face and chest were lined up.
Those two orange splats had hit, so he tried to repeat the process, wasting a lot of missed shots but eventually getting the turret up to its saturation limit where it deactivated.
Bronsor poked his head out to make sure, then seeing the barrels no longer puffing out the little paintballs he walked forward and passed through the narrow corridor the turret had been guarding. When he exited out the far side of the artificial mini-canyon he caught another red splat on his left shield, seeing that there were more active turrets on the other side.
On reflex he rammed his way forward, tucked up behind his shields and pulling out his second pistol so that he held the shields with his upper arms and the pair of stingers in the lower hands. Getting a feel for where the two turrets were he slid his shields in to the alignment the Knight had showed him and poked one pistol out the gap, then brought the other around the far side of the shield where…
Suddenly his back went numb as several stingers hit him from behind, then he blacked out and dropped hard with a crunch of armor on shields.
“They’re slow learners,” Marshal said to Jace in the observation blind over the training course as Bronsor woke up from the stun on his own and stood…only to get mowed down by the same turrets again, this time without his shields blocking two of the stinger streams.
“Ouch,” Jace winced in sympathy. The Calavari had head to toe armor on, but the sheer number of hits meant an awful lot of stun energy going into his body…which would end up with pins and needles galore when he woke up again naturally. “Guess the situational awareness is a bit low.”
“They’re brutes,” Marshal said emotionlessly. “They should be better than us, given their advantages, but they’re physically and mentally slow, and unless they learn to counter that it won’t matter how many hands they have.”
“Easy,” the trailblazer said, taking remote control of a hidden turret and popping it out of the ceiling where he aimed at Bronsor and fired a single paintball down onto his chest…this one carried in it a cancelling effect that would negate some of the stun and bring him back awake faster, though it was coated in red same as the stingers, so the trainees wouldn’t know the difference. “They’re first gen.”
“So were we,” Marshal pointed out.
“You didn’t learn very fast, if I remember correctly,” Jace recalled. “If they had other Calavari to learn from this would be going faster…and it will once we get this group squared off.”
“They have us to learn from and they’re still progressing at a snail’s pace.”
Jace looked up at the helmetless Knight that stood more than a foot taller than him. “You had the Black Knight to pattern off of, they have a bunch of skinny, two-armed bipeds to emulate…which they can’t do, so they have to learn what it means to be a Calavari Knight, same as you had to learn what it meant to be a Knight.”
“We weren’t this slow.”
“They’re making progress, which is all that matters. If that stalls out then we’re in trouble.”
“We’re down to 8,” Marshal reminded him. “I’m not sure we’re going to have any in the first class make it through qualification.”
“We’ll get them there if they’re willing,” Jace said, watching as Bronsor began to stir. “Just remember, they’re coming in as ignorant as you were when you came from the MMA.”
Marshal looked down at the Archon. “I’m surprised you remembered that.”
“Also remember, that you’re not a 450 pound mass. They’re going to have to work harder to meet the same agility standards.”
“Unlike you, I’m well aware of the difference. I didn’t always weight 340.”
“My point is it’s worse for them, and when you’re used to moving slow your mindset centers around that. Being quick and devious is totally alien to them.”
“I don’t need devious, just some ingenuity to work with.”
“They’re used to being used as cannon fodder,” Jace pointed out, “with some upgrades. Their shield belts gave them some longevity, but standing toe to toe and slugging it out has been the Calavari way.”
“Same with the MMA,” Marshal countered.
“Ok, point there.”
“My point is, if they can’t hack Knight standards they don’t deserve to be Knights, no matter what they weigh, orange armor or white. We can’t have separate standards…the battlefield doesn’t discriminate, so neither can we.”
“Is there a suggestion in there somewhere?”
“Push them harder. Learn by failure. Break their group think.”
“That’s already happening.”
“More challenges, less training.”
Jace rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “If they’re going to increase their agility, it’s raw training they need. Which is more valuable at this point?”
“Knowing when to duck,” Marshal said, pointing down to Bronsor as he crawled back to the narrow choke point rather than stand up and get shot again, though there was no promise that the turrets wouldn’t tilt down to shoot him on the floor.
“Keep the others on schedule…but see what you can do with him. I think he can take more than the others, not much, but a little more.”
Marshal smiled. “That’s what I hoped you say. By the way, what do you mass out at now?”
“Without armor?”
“That is what we were talking about, right?”
“Without armor, 155 pounds. With, 215.”
“Damn runt. Why haven’t any of you taken the size enhancements? You know the Zen’zat are our size.”
“A lesson we learned from Dragon Ball Z.”
“Oh?”
Jace looked up at the Knight. “Beware the small ones.”
Bronsor dragged his numb right leg behind him as he crawled beneath his shields along the wall. This was the 6th time he’d reawoken after getting knocked out, and yet the challenge wouldn’t end. He assumed it was some sort of a test…which he was failing. The parts of his body that were awake screamed in discomfort, but the pain of transition he could handle, it was the lack of response from his leg that was getting to him. He couldn’t stand on it yet, but he wasn’t just going to sit still and wait for his body to come back to him…he had to be making at least some progress forward, or he could be stuck out here forever.
He didn’t know how long it had been, though it was possible he’d been unconscious for hours. No one else was on the training course, but the turrets were still live and acting unconventionally. Some didn’t move until he closed within a predetermined range, appearing dead then coming online when he was exposed. Others didn’t fire until he’d passed them, meaning he couldn’t trust that any inactive turret that he saw was truly offline, making him run the full course by himself whereas before it was supposed to have been a team effort.
The Calavari had tried bullying his way forward several times, but had eventually determined that he would make no further headway unless he changed his tactics, and his numb leg further encouraged him to focus on making small progress, even if it was only a few inches at a time.
Right now though he needed to hurry, for the last turret he’d taken down would reactivate after a certain period of time and he to get to cover before that happened. One upside was that a low wall was covering him from another turret that kept pinging stingers off the top of his shields that were laid over his back, unable to depress low enough to hit his exposed sides or head. Before he wouldn’t have considered crawling, but now that he was forced to it made perfect sense why the low wall had been placed where it was…to encourage him and the others to think of alternate ways of getting past the turrets aside from shooting them into submission.
Bronsor held his two shields in place over his back like an insect and crawled forward on his lower arms and good leg, dragging the numb one in a rhythm that he was getting better at, then as he rounded the corner a wave of stingers shot out at his feet, nailing his already numb leg with another splatter, though he couldn’t feel it. He pulled his leg out of the firing line and took a moment to rest and look around at where he was, finally seeing the finish pedestal ahead on a platform that had three possible approaches, each of which crossed a disqualification pit on various sized bridges.
He looked them over, spotting the turret locations and trying to think of a way past. He couldn’t run, and even if he did there was at least one turret on ground level that he knew would shoot his feet, tripping him up when they went numb. Bronsor thought back to the low wall that he’d just used as cover, wondering if the Humans had hid any more clever approaches in the architecture.
He knew he needed to look where a Calavari normally wouldn’t, and mentally ruled out all the ‘common sense’ approaches, but aside from the three choices he couldn’t see any alternates, nor any little tricks he could use to pass through one of them.
Before he would have taken off and tried to bully his way through anyway, but now he decided to stay put and think, knowing that with his leg out of commission he wasn’t going to be able to shoot his way through. The Knight had said to get to the finish, so he had to find a way to do that somehow.
As he leaned back against the long wall that was blocking him from the turrets he’d just escaped, his eyes got caught on a pair of grooves set into the concrete on a tall pillar that separated two of the route choices ahead. The pillar beside it that separated the others, identical in every way, but didn’t have the grooves, which he’d thought were decorative…but then he remembered that Star Force didn’t do anything decorative, and if they were present on one pillar and not the other, then they probably meant something.
Just then it occurred to him, and Bronsor looked around eagerly, trying to judge the firing lines of the turrets ahead…then wondering about those behind him and if they would fire over the wall or not. If they did he’d fall, but it was worth the chance of having a straight route into the finish.
The Calavari punched his numb leg in protest, then crawled over to the far pillar, passing the entry point for routes 1 and 2 and glancing down their footbridges to cover on the far side. It had to be a decoy, a lure to draw them in, while this pillar was the real way across.
When he got up to the base of the concrete pylon he slipped his armored fingertips into the groove that sat just above his head, then tilted one of his shields up and tried to fit it inside. It took some wiggle work since he couldn’t stand well, but once he got up on his good knee he was able to slide the shield in several inches where it stuck firmly, making for an impromptu platform.
Bronsor huffed in approval and crawled up on top of it, using his three free hands to haul his body up. The shield supported his weight, and looking back he could see the long wall was still higher than his head, meaning it was blocking the previous turrets, so he was safe for the moment.
Getting up to a knee by leaning against the pillar, Bronsor raised his second shield up and slid it into the next groove, then grabbed the edge of it and hung off, using his lower two arms to pull out the bottom shield and flip it around over his back where his left hand held it in place. Using his right he three-armed his way up onto the top shield, ending up face down on it as he glanced back at the wall, seeing himself now level with the top of it.
The turrets were just below it, but he could only make out the tip of one of their target spheres, meaning they still couldn’t shoot at him…at least not until he stood up. There was still one more groove left before he got to the top, but looking up he could now definitely see the grooves in the ceiling that he had guessed were there, camouflaged as they were.
He took a couple of deep breaths, then leveraged himself up and onto his knee, glancing back and staring at one of the turrets on the other side of the wall. It didn’t rotate to track him, which he took as a good sign, but he wasn’t going to stick around for long and let it change its orientation, so he leveraged his free shield up and slid it into place, making a small roof over his head.
Gathering himself, he climbed up on top of it, then up on top of the pillar another half meter higher to a small platform. From there he could see the ladder in the ceiling that crossed over the disqualification pit and bridges below…as well as the numerous turrets that could easily rotate up and knock him off into a long fall. With his armor on he didn’t know if he’d break anything, but he’d definitely be injured…but if that was the case why would the Humans have put the ladder here?
He decided to take the chance, then carefully stood on one leg and reached up to the now low ceiling, grabbing hold of the rungs with both upper arms. Checking his grip twice, he pulled his body up off the platform, seeing if his arm strength would hold up. It was shaky, but possible.
He wrenched himself up high enough that his head almost hit the rungs, then he reached his lower arms up as far as he could and grabbed hold as well, finding that configuration more reliable, albeit slower, but at this point it didn’t matter. He just needed to get across.
Bronsor moved a hand forward, then another and another, about once per second and pulled himself off the platform, hanging over the freefall below. Ignoring everything else but his hand placements, he looked up at the rung ahead of him and got into a rhythm, his numb leg now no longer an issue. One hand release…one hand grab, always having three locked on tight to support his weight.
It was slow going, but it was steady progress, as he’d come to learn was the point. When he made it halfway across and hadn’t been shot down he knew he was going to make it the rest of the way, for his arm strength was serving him well…and now that he’d found a way to win, there was no way he was going to relinquish his grasp on it.
When he got to the far side there was another platform waiting, which he dropped off on, allowing himself to fall on his face rather than tip over the side as his numb leg collapsed underneath him. From there he slid down a curvy slide that deposited him behind a low wall that hid the slide from view and left him two meters away from the finish pedestal.
Bronsor crawled out and smashed his large hand on top of it, triggering the challenge complete tone and ugly blue lighting the Humans used along with it, but right now it was a welcome sight.
From the concealed exit the Knight walked out with a destunning injection and pointed to Bronsor’s hand. The Calavari detached the armored glove and let him inject the cool relief from the pins and needles that traveled down to his leg and brought it back to life as well. After a few experimental twitches he stood up beside Marshal, who simply tapped a finger against his own helmet, then turned around and led the way out.
Bronsor got the message. Fighting wasn’t always enough. Sometimes victory required one to think their way through, or out of, a bad situation.
9
January 22, 2442
Prolio System
HTC
Bronsor came out of the last turn on the track sprinting, in full armor, knowing that he had victory in this last piece of qualification if only he held his pace down the straightaway, but pride made him dig a little deeper and eke out some more speed. He needed to run under 5:45, and had been 12 seconds ahead of pace at 3 laps. Though his fatigue was wearing on him there was no way he was going to squander that lead so long as he kept the pressure on.
Which he did, and then some. The Knight armor he was wearing had been designed for running and allowed him to stretch out his thick legs and pound his way down the straightaway. When he crossed the line in 5:31 he knew all his hard work had finally paid off and coasted to a stop, breathing heavily inside his helmet. That was it…the last piece of the puzzle. All the combat challenges and tech training had already been completed, leaving only the physical fitness requirements between him and official Knight status, same as the Humans, and would give him the same white armor they wore...along with a combat assignment.
It also meant he was the first. The first Calavari to qualify as a true Knight. There were several hundred others in training for the same thing, but out of his ‘class’ there were only three remaining. The others had given up the full Knight qualification goal, sticking with the orange armor they’d already earned and a position in the new Calavari military being built on their new homeworld. Star Force called it HTC, but the Calavari had come to refer to it as Hamathrat, or ‘home’ in the Calavari language.
Bronsor was now going to have to think of it as HTC, given that he was no longer part of the new Calavari military. He was a full Knight, meaning he was all Star Force now, not just a subsidiary like the Kiritas or Canderous, but part of their line troops…at the lowest level, but he was 100% one of them, and Archon Jace had promised him an immediate combat slot if/when he achieved that feat.
Catching his breath, Bronsor looked up at the others using the track, most of which were plodding around as he once had been. There was no one paying attention to him, no fanfare or congratulations. Only a marker on the scoreboard to indicate his time and completion of the qualification mark.
Somehow that felt fitting, because he’d learned that Star Force wasn’t one for celebration. That was alright, even if it wasn’t the Calavari way, because what he wanted most was to be done with this endless training and get back into the fight.
Bronsor walked off the track, disconnecting his helmet and holding the orange head covering between his upper and lower right arms as he moved out into the hallway. He was planning on going back to the prep room, getting out of his armor and taking a shower before finding one of his trainers and asking for his combat assignment, but to his surprise not one, but two Archon rangers stopped him a few steps out the door.
“Archons,” he said with a respectful nod down at them as he stopped walking.
“Time to lose the orange armor,” Jace said with a smirk. “Follow us.”
“You were waiting?” Bronsor asked as they walked off. In the past he wouldn’t have spoken unless it was vital to the mission at hand, but these Humans were more informal than even the Calavari were on the battlefield, which was something he appreciated. Pointless egotistical ritual had always annoyed him, and so many of the Alliance’s member races lived and breathed their social standings rather than recognizing true skill.
“We can usually tell when someone is close to passing,” Jace explained as he walked shoulder to shoulder with Jason. “You’re the first Calavari to qualify as a Knight, so we wanted to be nearby to get you up to speed as soon as possible. Your time on this planet is over.”
“How soon?” Bronsor asked.
“You’ll be transferring to a seda,” Jason answered, “and training with the Knights there until your jumpship is ready to leave. Probably within 3 weeks.”
“I doubt any of the others will pass before then, so you’ll be the only one going back,” Jace added.
“What of the Calavari Knights?” Bronsor asked, feeling weird asking the question now that it no longer applied to him.
“They won’t be deployed for several years,” Jason answered. “We are sending a few squadrons of Valeries with you, but the Knights, Regulars, Mechs, and Naval aren’t ready yet, and won’t be for some time.”
“I understand,” Bronsor said, following the Archons into a stairwell and climbing up with heavy steps, for his legs were still burning from the mile he’d just ran.
“Do you?” Jason asked.
Bronsor looked at the back of his head as they climbed. “I’m now part of an experienced military. Theirs is brand new and has to prove itself before being given combat assignments.”
Jace glanced at his fellow trailblazer. “Seems he does.”
“Does that bother you?” Jason asked.
“No.”
“Told you he’s one of us,” Jace quipped as they got off the stairs and headed for a room just a few meters down the hallway.
“He’s earned it, but does he understand it?” Jason asked, looking at Jace then Bronsor as they walked inside.
“He’s about to,” the other trailblazer said as the three of them came through the door in the face of a set of Calavari Knight armor set up on a display rack, making it look as if one of them were standing before them. Bronsor looked at the white armor, feeling an immediate sense of pride and accomplishment.
Jace walked past it and pulled a small package off the wall behind it and brought it out for Bronsor to see.
“This goes along with the armor. It is a secret amongst Star Force that most of our civilians do not know about, nor do our allies. When Jason and I went through our initial training we did so in a similar way to you…”
“Except it was way harder,” Jason added.
Jace smiled but continued talking without missing a beat. “Afterwards we were told of this,” he said, holding up a small vile of blue liquid. “We call it ambrosia.”
Bronsor looked down at it, frowning. “What does it do?”
“It gives you additional energy and structural components to make your body stronger. You eat small amounts of it with your food, as we have been doing every day for the past 400 years. Human ambrosia is different from this, which is the Calavari version. We’re still adapting it to your physiology, so this isn’t as potent as ours, but it will help you in training and combat.”
“Think of it like a super sugar,” Jason said, seeing that Bronsor wasn’t fully grasping the concept. “When your body runs out of it you’ll feel low on energy, and when you take too much you’ll get bad headaches, so you have to carefully measure how much you take and when you take it. It’s something you’re going to have to learn on your trip to Calavari territory.”
“I drink it?”
“No,” Jace said. “This much would cause you immense pain. Only a small drop is required, so we measure out the amount and put it into specialized foodstuffs, so you’ll be eating your ambrosia rather than drinking it. And make sure you only take the Calavari version. We also have one basic formula that we give the Kiritak, so it’s important to know what it is you’re taking.”
“What happens if I take the wrong one?”
Jace and Jason exchanged glances. “We don’t know.”
Bronsor nodded. “How do I tell the difference?”
“In its liquid state, Human ambrosia is colored red, Calavari is blue, and Kiritak is green. The laced foodstuffs will also have labels on the containers with the same colors.”
“Is this how you have become so strong?”
Jason shook his head. “No, our training has made us strong. The ambrosia has helped us train harder and longer than we’re normally capable of doing.”
“So in a way yes,” Jace added, “but without the training it will do you little good.”
“The Knights on the seda will help you figure out how to use it,” Jason said, putting the vile back in the box, “just don’t tell your fellow Calavari about it. It’s something you have to earn, and as of now we don’t have very much of the Calavari version made yet…and we’re still working on increasing the potency of the formula.”
“It’s a work in progress,” Jace said, “but we want to get you started on it so you won’t be at too much of a disadvantage when you start training with the other Knights.
“Now,” Jason said, clapping his hands together after having put the box back where he got it. “Time to swap armor. The design is the same, aside from the comm system. This set has more options, given that you’ll be fully active on our network.”
Bronsor set his helmet down on the ground and began unlatching his gloves.
“There’s a lot of new stuff for you to learn,” Jace explained, “but that’s normal for new Knights. You’ll be assigned to a unit that will split up as necessary for missions…usually you don’t all fight together. Knights supplement combat teams.”
“Which is something else you’ll have to learn,” Jason added. “Becoming a Knight doesn’t mean things get easier, it’s a step up to the next level.”
“I’m not afraid of a challenge,” Bronsor said, pulling off the last bits of his Calavari Knight armor and stepping out of the boots. “I just want to get back into the fight.”
“You will,” Jace promised, “but you’ve got a lot to learn on the trip.”
Bronsor walked up to the white armor on the rack and looked at it for a moment, proud of what he’d accomplished, then he took the left boot and opened it up, seeing that it was the exact same dimensions as his previous armor, meaning a custom set.
Jace and Jason didn’t say anything else until he got all the armor pieces on, including the helmet, and let him move around in it a bit.
“Everything fit?” Jace asked.
“Yes, but the visual interface is unusual. It’s all English.”
“That’s the default setting. You can switch it over to the trade language like your old set if you want, but the more you can assimilate our language the easier it will be to link with the rest of our troops.”
“I will adapt,” Bronsor promised.
“Normally Knights don’t carry firearms,” Jason said, “but given that the Nestafar infantry can fly you’ll see them carrying at least a pistol as backup. Given that you have more hands to work with, I want you to always carry one. What’s your preference, stun sword or stun stick?”
“The sword is too long to use with the shields. I use a pair of sticks, though my first choice is the shotgun.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. The plasma shotgun was one of the weapons that Star Force armories typically held, but it was rarely used. “Why the shotgun?”
“When I carry the shields my effective combat range is medium. The shotgun allows the greatest damage and has a shorter barrel.”
“Something we need to look into,” Jason said, glancing at Jace who nodded. “Just be aware, that typically Knights go into battle only with stun weapons.”
“Because you usually take prisoners,” Bronsor said, already having heard that rumor.
“Some situations are different, just remember to focus on the mission objective and how best to accomplish it.”
Bronsor flexed his neck, with a slight clicking of the flexible plates covering it. “I know my duty. I will not let the Nestafar make me stupid with anger.”
Jason smiled. “Welcome to the family. Pack a gear duffle and get yourself to the spaceport. There’ll be a ride waiting for you.”
“Shields and weapons you’ll get from armories,” Jace added. “Duffles are for personal items, though you can get everything you need on site if you want to travel light.”
“We’ll send replacement armor pieces along. Eventually they’ll be standard in armories, but right now you’re the only one that will need a Calavari set.”
“I understand,” Bronsor said, looking down on the Humans. “Thank you.”
Jace smiled. “Go get us some more recruits.”
Four hours later Bronsor’s dropship landed in the Star Force seda’s hangar bay, after which he met up with the Knights onboard who got him situated into temporary quarters and acquainted with the handful that would be transferring out to Calavari territory with him. Thorough and intense as they were, they ran the newb through the works, testing his speed, strength, memory retention, and sense of humor.
Bronsor dutifully went along with the process, and within a few days started to understand how the Human Knights operated, and they in turn began to get a sense of what he could and couldn’t do. By the end of the first week they were practicing group maneuvers and troubleshooting ways to coordinate strengths and weaknesses, usually with Bronsor being center in the formation with the faster Humans in skirmish and flanker positions.
The unit training continued nonstop, with Bronsor being expected to see to a lot of his own fitness training, either at the same time as the others or at a time of his choosing. He worked out with them, so there would be no mistakes as to what he was supposed to be doing, as well as getting a feel for what the Knights trained like, for he’d only seen a few in the roll of instructors or sparring partners before.
His first impression was how fast they were, and Bronsor knew he’d have to work hard to keep up with them. His second takeaway was the fact that they weren’t that much stronger than him, and he could keep pace with a couple of them on brute strength exercises. Overall he was the weakling amongst the group, but given his greater mass he quickly picked up the nickname ‘Ram’ given that’s how easy he could push through opponents when he needed to.
Bronsor clung to that strength as a matter of pride, and was happy to have two or three of the Knights test his strength as they tried to figure out the best way to stop a charging Calavari. With his two half shields locked into a wedge in front of him and a short run up, Bronsor turned his 450 pound mass, plus armor, into a juggernaut that the others had to get innovative to stop.
And that they did, which Bronsor liked. Some of them took to his legs, trying to sweep underneath his shields and trip him up while others used their speed to circle around behind him and latch on to his limbs or neck and drag him to the ground. By the time the jumpship was ready to leave, they’d gone through the exercise so many times they’d gotten quite good at predicting each other’s movements and had quite a lot of fun seeing the other Knights they met up with onboard the troop ship trying to take him down as he ‘ran the gauntlet.’
The drill instantly became part of the Knight lexicon, with a 50 meters or so stretch of deck with a line Bronsor was trying to get to and that the others were trying to keep him from. Sometimes they went with armor, armor and shields, or nothing at all. His ability to successfully get past 2 and sometimes 3 other Knights at a time immediately made him one of the guys, despite the fact that several of the Knights were female, which was something he didn’t have too much trouble getting used to, given that the Humans all looked the same to him.
Show a Knight a weakness that someone could exploit against him, and you just became his best friend and new sparring partner. In return the group helped expose Bronsor’s many shortcomings, as well as helping him learn to counter them. Most of the Knights he was traveling with didn’t have a lot of combat experience, but they were all more than 100 years old and had so much trials experience that they were more knowledgeable about combat than the combat veterans he’d served with in the Calavari military.
Staging mock wars was another thing he liked about Star Force, and from the stories he was told they were more intense than the real thing because the Knights could learn from their mistakes and come back to try again, whereas in a real war you’d just be dead.
Bronsor was learning so much from his new brothers that the long trip back out to Calavari territory passed incredibly quick. Wiser as he was, he felt even more inadequate now than before, learning the depth of skill the other Knights possessed, but none the less he was eager to get his feet back on Calavari soil and within reach of the Nestafar so he could put his new skills and armor to the test.
10
July 19, 2442
Atriann System
Juness
Bronsor and the other Knights onboard the jumpship watched via vid screens as the warships in the Star Force fleet engaged the Nestafar in orbit over Juness…a Calavari world that was involved in a pitched battle on the surface with the outcome up for grabs even before Morgan’s fleet arrived. The troop jumpships were held back in higher orbit around the planet while the warships and their drones dove in low and went head to head with a fleet of more than 150 Nestafar ships deployed in clusters around the planet.
Star Force used that to their advantage, hitting with their full force on a single vector, annihilating the ships there before going hunting for the others. As most naval engagements went, it was a much slower process than a ground battle, but the way the Human ships came in and literally ripped apart the Nestafar was something the Calavari fleet had never been able to do. Granted, the Humans did have greater numbers, but even a Calavari fleet of twice their size couldn’t have defeated the Nestafar so efficiently.
Several drone warships were lost in the fighting, but not one of the control ships was hit, meaning Star Force wiped the Nestafar clean from orbit without a single death on their side. Once again, the Humans’ methodology impressed Bronsor, shedding more light on their now legendary longevity.
Once orbit was secured and the fleet was broken up hunting down fleeing Nestafar ships, the troop ships and Conduit transports were brought down closer to the planet and the Knights were called to the hangar bays where they loaded up onboard a plethora of dropships along with Archons and Regulars. Bronsor waited in the rear of the tightly packed dropship all the way down to the surface, hearing not a word from the other troops.
It wasn’t surprising, given the time he’d spent with the Humans, but while Calavari weren’t overly talkative, there would have been some small amount of chatter about what they were going to come up against or some jokes just to break the nerves. None of that happened here. The professionalism of Star Force both impressed and inspired Bronsor, who kept his own thoughts to himself and remained as stoic as the others until the dropship set down and the boarding ramp began to lower ahead of him.
The troops had boarded the dropship facing backwards, so now as the ramp came down they were facing out. With his shields tucked up against his sides as closely as he could manage, Bronsor watched as those ahead of him filed out, with his helmet receiving a waypoint for him to report to, coming from one of the Archons in command of his current unit.
The Calavari plodded down the ramp next to several Regulars, flexing his arms and neck inside his armor as he moved off with the others towards the glowing marker digitally emblazoned onto his HUD some several hundred meters off across the courtyard they’d landed in. Juness was a high population world with thousands of cities, but not so overgrown as to have them all bleed together into one giant urban mass. Though he’d never been to this world before he recognized the architecture, as well as the large remembrance plaza he was now standing in.
The waypoint took them out of the open and into a gap between the surrounding buildings. The other units coming off the dropships split up on their own assignments, leaving 30-40 troops with Bronsor’s group as they met up briefly before plunging into the cityscape.
After that came a lot of running, which Bronsor labored to keep up with, but he managed. The other two Knights were with him, one ahead and one behind, with Regulars spaced in between them in their dirty white armor. Leading the way were two red armored Archons who knew what their mission objective was, though as of yet the Knights hadn’t been informed.
The Star Force troops ran across the white stone surface, eyes glancing into every gap between the red/orange buildings and seeing almost no people at all, nor enemy troops. Bronsor didn’t take that as a good sign, but as they progressed further a few isolated faces began popping up in windows and around corners, then the sounds of distant battle began to waft their way back to his audial pickups.
It was coming from the direction they were running, which he could tell thanks to the directional speakers that successfully mimicked the origin point of sounds his helmet was recording and playing back for him inside the protective barrier that fully obscured his ears. Bronsor ground his teeth in anticipation and continued running along with the others.
“We have Calavari troops engaging the Nestafar ahead,” one of the Archons finally spoke through their helmet comms. “No walkers as of yet, but keep an eye out for the protomechs. They can move up and down these streets almost as easily as we can. Break up by Knights and follow Archons through, maintain moderate spacing once we’re engaged.”
Bronsor huffed, glad to now have his operational orders. His team flashed on his HUD, identifying him to the Regulars that he was supposed to operate with. As they continued to run the short Humans shuffled about repositioning and Bronsor opened a comm line to his team.
“Form a wedge behind me. I’m going through first.”
Without any unnecessary chatter 11 Regulars fell back even with his shoulders and behind as a slew of Calavari came into view ahead. Most weren’t troops, but evacuees from elsewhere in the city that were clustering together around the entrances to several buildings that must have been being used as temporary barracks.
Bronsor activated his external speakers and jacked them up to a high volume.
“Move aside brothers!” he yelled in the Calavari language. “Make way! Let us get to the enemy!”
Bronsor was in the middle of the Star Force pack, but some of the Calavari had seen them coming and started to move out of the way of those up front…though when he spoke all eyes turned to see the armored soldiers coming and the crowd quickly split, exposing the center of the white stone road to let them pass. When they did the first signs of battle were seen far ahead, as the Calavari soldiers were defending a key position behind several crude barricades with a mass of Nestafar flying in the air beyond them.
When the crowd created the gap for them the two Archons immediately took off sprinting, moving faster than Bronsor could ever hope to. They ran straight up to the Calavari, firing a few blue plasma streaks on approach up into the enemy swarm, then they both leapt up and over the barricades, coming down into the grip of the enemy and drawing attention away from the Calavari and the approaching Star Force troops.
Bronsor clapped both of his inner arms against his chest plate, appreciating the aggressive tactic, then reached down to his sides and pulled out the pair of plasma pistols he had hanging there as he simultaneously brought his pair of shields up in front of him and formed a wedge.
The group in front of him came up to the barricades and the Knight there planted his single shield down on the ground extending the left cover as his Regulars fell in next to the Calavari in the gaps behind the barricades, where they began sniping the Nestafar with a flurry of plasma streaks.
Bronsor didn’t head for the available cover on the right, instead he headed straight for the cluster of crates in the center and hopped up on top of the lowest of them. He didn’t hold there, but came over the far side into the firing lines of the ugly bugs and started taking a hoard of red plasma strikes on his shields as he barreled his way forward with the Regulars tucking in close behind him in a narrow triangle as they fired back.
Bronsor moved up some 20 meters into the open area then claimed his position, coming to a halt and cracking his shields apart as he popped out his pistols and began firing at every flapping wing he saw.
What he didn’t see were the Archons. Ahead of him was a building and a Y-split in the road, both sections of which were full of Nestafar, some of which were on the ground and advancing forward on foot. None of that mattered now, for Bronsor was committed, so he kept his shields close and his weapons hot, racking up as much of a kill count as he could while the Regulars around him mowed down the closest Nestafar while absorbing the few shots the enemy could land on them with their armor’s shields.
Bronsor’s energy barriers had already gone down over his half-shields, but his body armor was still protected by half a charge despite the Nestafar landing a pair of head shots. That defensive barrier began to recharge as the weapons firing at him thinned considerably, and within 30 seconds the choke point had been secured with the other two Knight teams moving up the branches of the road, sniping the occasional Nestafar that flew into their firing lines.
Bronsor got another waypoint move order, heading up the right branch, and sucked in a deep breath preparing for another stint of running. There was a planet full of Nestafar ahead of him, and with the way Star Force fought, always on the move, he needed to pace himself, for this is what he’d been training the past 3 years for, and now that he was here any doubts as to his leaving the fight earlier were officially squashed.
He was far more of a threat to the Nestafar as a Star Force Knight than he had been as a Calavari soldier, and now was the time to put his skills to use in a war that had already been going on for 4 decades…longer than he’d been alive. Rushing into battle before one was ready was a quick road to defeat in a massive engagement such as this…which was another important lesson Star Force had taught him.
And now that he was prepared, and had thousands of more skilled warriors around him, it was time to take the fight to the enemy and save as many of his kin as they could…all in preparation for the massive war against the Cajdital that was inevitably coming.
Taryn stood in the command Nexus just off the bridge of the Winston, studying the progress of her ground troops on the planet below. This was the first time her fleet had seen major ground action in the 30+ years she’d been engaged in this theatre of war. During most of that time they’d made naval raids, but now with Operation Conduit in full throttle they had a mission objective beyond simply neutralizing as many Nestafar ships as they could…they were here to rescue Calavari and take them out of the war zone.
That war zone had seen little shift in the balance of territory. What the Calavari had lost they’d made up for by taking Nestafar systems, and in turn, 63% of the captured worlds were then recaptured by their former owners. Some star systems had flipped multiple times, leaving the only clear result of the war effort so far being widespread death and destruction.
She didn’t have numbers on the Nestafar, but the Calavari had reportedly lost a full third of their population, meaning they’d lost several times over the entire number of Humans…and that wasn’t something you just rebuilt over the space of a few years. Both the Calavari and Nestafar were losing the war, with the only question in play being who would be left standing in the end to rule over the rubble.
That said, even the weakened Calavari still far outnumbered the Humans, both in terms of systems, ships, and population. Their empire was massive, and as such it took a great deal of time to tear it apart…with the four-armed brawlers doing a better job of defending themselves than the Alliance had given them credit for at the outset.
Juness was one of three planets in this system that the Calavari had inhabited, but it held 98% of their population. The other two worlds were merely starter colonies and had been bypassed by the Nestafar entirely. Taryn had already dispatched jumpships to begin evacuating those worlds, but the ongoing conflict on the surface of this planet was still in full swing. Usually Star Force was coming to planets that had already been conquered or were on the verge of destruction, but with Morgan sweeping through the smaller systems and Leif pulling out Calavari units that had pushed too far into Nestafar territory and got cut off, she was left with picking a larger world under siege and coming to its rescue.
The Calavari had lost orbit, but they had not conceded the planet. Both races’ ground forces were in far greater number than Taryn’s, so she had to be tricky in knowing where to insert them and her smaller warships to tip the scale of the ground battle to their favor.
Trouble was, she was going to have to hold this system for several years before Star Force could supply enough jumpships to evacuate all 3.3 billion of them…or at least that’s what their population had been before this invasion had started. How many of them were left alive now was an ongoing conversation amongst her analysis staff. While Taryn wanted as many of them to be alive and rescuable as possible, the more that were meant she was going to have to hold this position longer…and the longer she held it, the more time the Nestafar had to size up her fleet and plan a counter assault.
So far Star Force hadn’t faced any of those, given they were raiding systems rather than taking them, so this was going to be a whole new ball game and she wanted to micromanage as much of it as possible this early on to give herself more options down the road.
She’d held off deploying herself into combat for just that reason, instead deciding to play ‘Admiral’ and organize everything from afar. Her troops had dropped down into 18 combat zones, committing all the forces she had in order to overwhelm the opposition and reduce casualties to both Star Force and the Calavari troops they were aiding. So far two cities had been wiped clean of the Nestafar…two that had not had walkers in play.
Taryn had already dispatched fleets of dropships to head down to those locations and begin picking up the Calavari civilians. She didn’t know how reluctant they would be to leave, but had told her personnel that if they balked to just pass them over and pick up those that were willing, then they’d come back and deal with the others later.
The dropships that had just taken down the ground troops were now being recycled into pulling supplies off the jumpships that the civilians would soon be boarding. Those supplies currently filled every room and hallway, and would have to be pulled out before the people could go in. Most were foodstuffs, with the rest being survival supplies including portable tents, medicine, tools, and a host of personal items the Calavari used. Their purpose was to supply those that they were forced to leave on the planet to wait for future jumpships, but by the look of the planet Taryn guessed that a lot of their industry and support systems were still intact.
With that in mind Taryn began tagging those facilities as priority targets to grab and hold, directing her troops, mechs, and aerial forces like she was playing a game of StarCraft and kept at it for the next 6 hours before forcing herself to abandon the nexus and get in some training time, food, and a nap, after which she was back at it and would continue to be for the next two weeks.
That was the point when she finally decided to deploy herself into one of the hotly contested cities via aerial drop. With her comm system set up so she could manage the entire planetary war from her helmet if needed, Taryn stepped off the boarding ramp of a dropship midflight and fell down through the atmosphere feathering her jump pack controls to land her near the front but still inside the Star Force lines.
Carrying a pair of plasma pistols and a backpack full of replacement ammo, Taryn got to work quickly helping to clear the skies and streets of the Nestafar’s flying infantry, engaging them at short to medium range while her mechs hammered the protomechs zipping about the streets trying to pick off the Calavari and now Star Force infantry. They did their part, she did hers, and the skeets zipping over the city did theirs as they worked through the captured sections of the Calavari metropolis, reclaiming building after building and saving a lot of the Calavari hiding inside.
But for every one they saved, 10 more lay dead on the streets or in the hallways, making it ever more evident that the Calavari were losing this war, one way or another, and that Operation Conduit might very well end up being the only way to save their race if the Alliance wasn’t able to find a way to cut the legs out from under the Nestafar invasion.
Though Taryn didn’t know it, nor would know it for some years to come, the Bsidd, Kvash, and Hycre were planning just such an assault on one of the Nestafar homeworlds in conjunction with the Elarioni, who were giving them all the intel they needed on their former ally.
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"The Imperial March"
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1
January 9, 2444
Orica System
Inner Zone
A tiny jumpship decelerated against Orica C, the smallest of the three stars that made up the trinary system that the Nestafar had made their capitol. Some said jumping into or out of a trinary was more difficult, others said it was easier because it gave you more gravity well options to work with, but it was true that with the stars orbiting around each other you had a moving target to hit, making accurate stellar charts a must for transit into or through the system.
The Alliance had all the Nestafar maps, or so they they’d been told. That said, the Nestafar could have been setting them up from the get go. Fortunately the long animosity between them and the Calavari had seen their enemies compiling detailed charts of their most precious systems, Orica included, so it wasn’t a surprise when the jumpship came out of its coast phase and decelerated right on target for the innermost star.
Very nearby was Orica A, with its huge red glow providing the background to Orica C’s yellow hue. Had the jumpship not had differential drives it would have been a more robust navigational calculation required to push off of both stars for deceleration purposes, but the Bsidd ship didn’t have to bother, for they and every other major power in the Alliance had the technology to pick out one gravity well and exclude the others.
The tiny ship was barely larger than a lizard battleship, but a true jumpship it was, though it carried no cargo or other vessels. It was a scout ship, pure and simple, and as soon as it got itself situation into a holding position over the star in lieu of an orbit, it began picking up Nestafar tracking signals.
Thousands of tiny beacons spread across the system were pumping out lightspeed detection signals of various types, allowing delayed detection of any ship entering the system. Should the scout ship delay making another jump, Nestafar patrol ships would be quick to begin intercept maneuvers, coming from one of the 93 inhabited planetoids within the system.
This scout ship, however, had come in very close to Orica C, with the stellar radiation making detection a bit more difficult. Add to that the sensor dampening hull plates that the Bsidd researchers had reverse engineered from lizard hull segments, and the scout ship had a small window of invisibility in close to the star to work out of.
So there it sat, soaking in the signals from afar while it was backlit by the yellow star. Most traffic coming into and out of the system used Orica A’s much larger gravity well as their jumping point, which meant that Orica C was less likely to receive traffic…and in a few hours’ time it would be receiving a lot of traffic in the form of Alliance warships. Warships that would need a heads up as to what was going on in the system and where all the key pieces were at.
Thankfully, the Bsidd sensors could pick up the reflective pings from the Nestafar beacons just as well as they could, so every ship within its line of sight was being registered, on a delay, and updated into a forming battlemap that was being overlaid onto the system map that the Elarioni had provided. Given that they had never been in the system themselves and had only stolen it from the Nestafar databases, the Alliance wanted confirmation before they’d risk the sizeable fleet they’d assembled, so if the scout ship didn’t find what it was meant to find by the time they arrived it would flag them down and they’d jump back out of the system as soon as they recharged their capacitors.
The delay in doing so wouldn’t matter, for no amount of patrol ships would be able to harass them in sufficient numbers, but if they were to achieve a surprise attack they’d have to split up immediately upon arrival and essentially be flying blind to their targets without knowing what was actually waiting for them.
And there was a lot waiting for them. Even from its limited perspective the gangly jumpship, which looked like a twisted knot of bluish/purple tubes, began tabulating the fleets of warships present over several worlds, along with hundreds of defense stations and millions of other ships moving about. Some were jumpships, but most were interplanetary cargo ships serving the system by carrying cargo to and from the various planets and moons.
The system was an empire in and of itself, holding more planetoids and infrastructure than Star Force’s core zone. One of those planetoids, the 17th out from the inner two stars and 4th in from Orica B’s very high orbit, was the Nestafar homeworld.
It wasn’t the largest, nor the most populated Nestafar world in their territory, or even in the system, but it was the planet their empire had began upon and was still the focal point in their society. Their industry was another matter, with three planets in orbit around Orica B holding their primary shipyards. They accounted for 43% of all shipbuilding the Nestafar possessed, though that staggering number didn’t do the actual facilities justice.
Even at vast distance between the central two stars and their sister out in high orbit, the scout ship had no trouble picking up sensor images from some of the orbital facilities around the trio of worlds, or rather the two that were visible. The third was on the opposite side of Orica B and temporarily obscured from view.
The scout ship held position, soaking up data from the current side of the star then slowly moved around it, hovering on its gravity drives. As it did more planetoids came into view, as well as more ships in the gaps. As predicted, the infrastructure was almost entirely located in orbit around the planets and moons, with only a handful of signals coming back confirming the presence of interplanetary facilities that the Elarioni-stolen map had indicated.
Two were refueling stations, set close in to the center of the system to service passing jumpships without them needing to make a microjump further into the system. Four more, set at LaGrange points between the stars and planets, were military outposts with quick response fleets capable of reinforcing the various planets or going after ships coming into the system. By staying on the gravitational jumpline between two gravity wells, or more accurately just off it to avoid collisions with passing traffic, they had the option of moving in two directions, albeit at a slower pace given their distance.
The scout ship did a sensor focus on those outposts, holding a passive receiver directly on those locations and soaking up more of the limited reflective signal, trying to get a breakdown on what was there. It took some time, but the glob of a signal refined itself into the station and the hundreds of ships docked or floating nearby it.
The scout ship did a basic head count and added that information to the survey it was pulling, which would be transmitted to the Alliance fleet as soon as they arrived.
When the Bsidd ship moved all the way around the star to the far side and started to come in through the gap between Orica A and Orica C it picked up something that wasn’t supposed to be there. Situated in the gap between the stars was a huge fleet, thousands of ships strong, all of which were warships based on the silhouettes.
The scout ship moved just close enough around the curve of Orica C to keep itself from appearing as a silhouette of its own off the edge of the star, but it didn’t shoot the gap itself, knowing that if the fleet’s active sensors were sent its way its odds of staying hidden were nil. As it was the Bsidd were closer to the star than they wanted, with their partial shields having to push back a considerable amount of stellar radiation. The outside half of their ship was exposed, which was necessary to pick up the reflective signals at maximum effect, but the hull had to retain the growing amount of heat else it’d start to glow on its own accord.
That was one downside of the lizard armor. It soaked up EM, which it then had to process internally before it became saturated…and this close into the stars there was a lot of EM coming its way.
The Bsidd knew they could only nose into the gap for a brief period of time, for while they were blocking the stellar radiation from Orica C with their hemispherical shields, they couldn’t shield their front half and still get a good passive sensor read on the fleet. That meant Orica A’s radiation was hitting them and their superabsorbent hull with a ton of heat.
The scout ship eventually had to pull back around Orica C and lose sight of the fleet, after which the internal processors began eating up some of the extra heat in the armor rather than venting it. Conventional wisdom held that heat coming from the direction of a star would help its cover rather than expose the ship, but that wasn’t true if someone was monitoring the stellar output and saw a blip of radiation that didn’t match what the star was putting out…and heat was one form of radiation.
The Bsidd held position over Orica C as it orbited around Orica A, gradually exposing the remaining slice of the system that Orica A had been hiding and allowing them to finish their battlemap just before a pair of warships circled around Orica C in low orbit, hunting for the ghost ship that the sensor beacons had picked up entering the system.
The high speed at which the scout ship had entered the system meant it was plowing into the beacon signals and reflecting them back at greater than lightspeed. Those unusual signal speeds existed as a brief, intense flash on sensors that normally alerted one to an incoming jumpship, if you were on the trajectory line to see them.
The Nestafar sensor grid was, but after the flash there had been no visible ship. One obvious possibility would have been that the ship had hit the star, but careful evaluation of the flash could produce a descending acceleration curve, indicating that the object had in fact been braking.
Now, that didn’t mean the ship didn’t hit the star, but had it, there would have been some sort of disturbance on the surface of Orica C…which there wasn’t. The Nestafar had then sent out two ships to pull a close scan near the star, finding nothing on the approach side, so now they were moving around to check the back where the scout ship was currently hiding.
The Bsidd saw them coming first, and knowing they still had a few hours until the fleet arrived, they turtled up inside their full shields and abandoned any further monitoring. Their mission now was simple…survive long enough to deliver their data.
Using their superior shielding the scout ship dropped down closer to the star, so far in fact that they entered the extreme upper atmosphere, using it as a sensor-dampening blanket that cut out the Nestafar sensors as well as their own as the intense radiation tried to cook the Bsidd, with their advanced cooling systems sucking heat out of the hull and storing the energy internally, some of which was then used to reinforce the shields…at least as much as the emitters could handle.
They couldn’t see the Nestafar, and they very much hoped they couldn’t see them. After that point it was just a matter of time, with the deteriorating shield matrix pitted against the clock, and according to the Bsidd’s calculations they’d survive in their presence location until the Alliance fleet arrived with 48 minutes to spare.
When the estimated time for the fleet arrival came the scout ship increased the trickle of power to its gravity drives and raised up out of the star’s atmosphere and started pumping out its active sensors, looking for ships nearby. The two Nestafar warships were no longer snooping overhead, leaving the area around this side of the star open.
But the fleet wasn’t coming in on this side, so the Bsidd flew back up into low orbit and reversed course, flying back around the way they’d come until they were in view of the approaching jumplane the fleet would be taking now that the star had completed a full orbital tango with its twin. Though they couldn’t see the response, they knew the Nestafar would be alerted to their position within minutes and begin to deploy ships to hunt them down, but given the signal lag it shouldn’t matter…assuming the fleet was on time.
Right now all that mattered was staying alive and getting the data to the fleet, and in order to do that the scout ship needed to know if anyone was nearby, hence the active sensors. One contact materialized, coming out of the gap between stars where the Nestafar fleet was, just before the first Alliance ship jumped in, decelerating hard against Orica C and stopping just shy of running into it…though that had been by design.
The scout ship detected its presence a few seconds after arrival, then began transmitting its data along with the go ahead order, indicating that the plan was still in play, despite the thousands of warships right next door.
The Hycre jumpship received the data and input it into their computer system, set to relay out to the other ships automatically as they arrived…but they weren’t here yet, also part of the plan, because the Alliance didn’t want the Nestafar to see who was coming.
Using a computer virus the Elarioni had designed, the Hycre began transmitting into the Nestafar data grid, pumping the program out to as many enemy receivers as it could. The beacons and other receivers bounced the signal around the system, getting it to locations that were eclipsed by the stars and planets, including the nearby fleet that was pinched between the disruptive influences of both stars.
When the program got into the Nestafar computers it didn’t affect weapons, life support, navigation, or any of the vital systems. Instead it altered the computer records, so that when the sensors saw the first dozen Hycre jumpships arrive the data was lost, superimposed with an ‘active’ map of the system from either memory or the last current location of ships and facilities if they were within a certain range, so that a ship a kilometer off the bow of another wouldn’t just disappear and attract attention.
The purpose of the virus was to keep things ‘normal’ as the fleet arrived, and that’s just what it did…aside from the scout ship and the first Hycre jumpship, which the Nestafar were now learning about via signal lag. At first it was just another incoming jumpship, but when the sensors confirmed it wasn’t Nestafar the fleet between the stars began to redeploy some of its ships to intercept.
But their sensors weren’t functioning properly…or rather their memory banks weren’t, so when some ships began to move out of their parking formation the maps the others had of the immediate area didn’t update, making all of the moving ships think they were the only one deploying. In reality some 38 ships had been ordered out from the edges and were repositioning to make tiny microjumps towards the enemy jumpship.
Flying blind as to where the others actually were they succeeded in leaving without incident, though a discussion over the comms quickly broke out with the commander of the fleet asking why none of his ships were moving. As they tried to sort that out, with the ships claiming to not only be moving, but the only ones moving, the Hycre jumpship released its school of warship ‘fish’ against the harsh glare of the yellow star, with them moving out towards the Nestafar ships that couldn’t see them coming, for their sensor data wasn’t being logged.
The jumpship itself began moving around the star in low orbit, heading for the approximate location of the scout ship and clearing the lane for the others coming in behind it. Those jumpships decelerated and stopped at a slightly higher altitude, all preplanned, so they wouldn’t risk colliding with each other. Using mathematical precision of the highest order, the ships dropped out some 100 km apart from one another like bread crumbs falling from some invisible hand moving out away from the star.
Each ship then descended further towards Orica C, releasing the warships it was carrying out of the entry corridor and proceeding to the ‘corral’ point with the others. All of the first wave of jumpships were Hycre, given that they had the best navigational programs and thus had the least risk of misjumping into the star at such close range. Originally their preplanned targets were at various planets and moons across the system, hunting down the Nestafar war fleets and leaving less threats to their allies which were behind them in the jump order, but with the scout ship’s update concerning the fleet a quarter revolution around the star they quickly adjusted their strategy.
The first few hundred Hycre warships clustered together and, after quickly finishing off the 38 ships the Nestafar had sent their way, they dove straight into the heart of the Nestafar fleet that couldn’t see them on sensors, thanks to the virus, and began shredding the enemy ships with their brilliant white plasma that appeared as dull streaks in the backlight of the two stars bracketing the battle.
All Nestafar weapons that relied on the ship’s sensors were rendered useless, and only those batteries that had line of sight capability returned fire. Missiles couldn’t be launched without targets, and without the computer-aided firing the gunners in the batteries had a hard time picking and hitting their distant targets…especially with the Hycre flying their typically evasive battle routes rather than standing still and slugging it out.
The ‘battle’ was a misnomer, given that it was a one-sided slaughter. The ever growing Hycre warfleet destroyed them all before the last of their jumpships arrived, then the school of ‘fish’ broke up into multiple groups and began making microjumps out to other locations, intent on getting to more of the Nestafar ships before their computers tracked down and eliminated the virus. How long that would take they didn’t know, but they certainly weren’t going to wait around for the rest of the Alliance fleet to arrive and squander part or all of their opportunity.
In all more than 2,000 Hycre jumpships arrived in one long convoy, decelerating against the star one at a time but only spaced a handful of seconds apart, after which there was a few minutes gap until the first Kvash battleship jumped in, with its tri-sphere hull small in comparison to the Hycre jumpships, but even smaller compared to the ‘starbases’ that followed, each of which was the size of 3 Hycre jumpships and carried not only a fleet of warships, but functioned as troop carrier, battle station, refueling depot, repair yard, and just about every other function imaginable.
The massive battleships moved into flanking positions, dwarfed by the starbases they were escorting, as each one jumped off to a different position in the system with unique targets. Normally a starbase was reserved for the assault of a heavily defended enemy system or the defense of a highly important Kvash one, but for this assault they’d brought not one, not two, but 17 starbases, underscoring just how important this assault was…and how infuriated they were by the Nestafar’s betrayal of the Alliance.
2
After the ‘small’ Kvash fleet arrived, the much larger Bsidd force started to pour in. Their gangly ships were as convoluted as their bodies, but the vaguely insectile race was the most technologically advanced within the Alliance, although not the strongest. The Hycre had superior gravity drives, the Kvash better shields, and the Calavari better starfighters…but it was the Bsidd that were overall the most balanced, and where the other three had weaknesses the Bsidd did not.
What they did have were numbers. Each of their ships were smaller than their Hycre counterparts, and all were manned, unlike Star Force’s small drone warships, which gave them a fleet of nimble, high tech craft that were faster than the Nestafar and equipped with weaponry befitting larger ships, giving them a more potent sting individually and a swarming capability that allowed them to take on more massive vessels.
With such numbers it took a long time to get all of their jumpships into the system, for they too were smaller than average. The assault on Orica was already 10 hours old by the time the last of them arrived, with the jumpships not disgorging the warships within, but rather jumping off to their target locations to deliver them up close and personal.
With the Hycre engaging the Nestafar’s mobile fleets, which were still mostly disabled by the Elarioni virus, the Bsidd moved out to 18 planetoids and began unloading their warships into large swarms out on the periphery of planetary orbit, after which they moved down the gravity well engaging the Nestafar battle stations with a mix of plasma and an energy weapon they referred to as a ‘disruptor’ that worked in a similar way to Star Force’s mauler, only with longer range and less effect on matter.
It did have a similar effect on shields, highly damaging the energy matrixes and penetrating them sooner than other weapons, after which their bright blue plasma would have a straight path to the hull armor. Each of their weapons was small in size, but they had many on each ship and all with decent range, allowing them to engage multiple smaller targets, like fighters, with ease, or they could group their fire together to hit larger targets, giving the Bsidd fleet a highly adaptive battle profile.
They did take losses, unlike the Kvash whose smallest ship in play was a heavy cruiser, but the Bsidd had so many ships that those that were lost were hardly noticeable. The Bsidd swarms moved methodically from one battle station to another, utterly tearing them to shreds while the Nestafar fleet that normally would have been supplementing the stations’ defense was being engaged by the Hycre elsewhere.
Halfway through the Bsidd assaults the battle stations were able to overcome the Elarioni virus, allowing their targeting programs to reassert themselves…at which point the number of Bsidd casualties began to climb, but their numbers were so great there was no stopping them as they moved throughout the orbital tracks of the planetoids they were assigned, wiping them clean of Nestafar infrastructure, both military and civilian, along with any cargo ships that hadn’t had the sense to run away when the fighting started.
The Kvash moved slower over their target worlds, overlapping fire and cycling out ships when their shield strength dipped near the breaking point. They had such a numerical superiority that they didn’t fancy on losing any ships, and set out a slow moving game plan to accommodate that outcome as they picked off more of the Nestafar battle stations with their heavy cruisers and battleships while their starbases offered fire support on the bigger targets, for the Nestafar had a wide range of defensive platforms, some of which were truly massive.
But they were stationary, which was their defining weakness. They were also scattered around orbit rather than clustered together, which let the Kvash and Bsidd isolate and pick them off in sequence thanks to the fact that the Hycre were doing such a good job engaging the Nestafar fleets elsewhere. In addition to the Elarioni virus, the mohawks were laying out a tactical display that would be studied for years to come by the Alliance member races, for they were single handedly sticking it to the Nestafar navally in more than 200 locations, not allowing their defense fleets to bunch up and mass attack the Kvash.
They also didn’t let them go after the Bsidd either. At first they didn’t have much choice, because the Nestafar warships couldn’t see where the attacking fleets were, or their own that were trying to reposition, and the Hycre used that advantage to blindside them, destroying more than a third of their defense fleet before the Nestafar computer programmers found and disabled the virus…some individually onboard ships at first, then a master cleansing protocol created and distributed from one of the planets in the system.
When the Nestafar finally got their ‘eyes’ open they found themselves under assault at dozens of planetoids, not to mention the interplanetary staging bases that were supposed to be hard to get to, given that they didn’t have a nearby gravity well to quickly brake against, meaning ships would have to approach slowly and use weakened gravity drives or convention thrust to arrive at the bases.
That would have been true of the Bsidd and Kvash, but with the Hycre’s binary drives they were able to push off the stars and head straight towards the outposts the Elarioni-stolen map had tagged and the scout ship had confirmed, traveling at speeds that none of the other races in the system could hope to brake against. All of them would have overshot the targets, but because the Hycre could push against the distant planets, same as the other races could, and slow their approach gradually, they were able to use that repulsion and the gravitational attraction back to the star they had just jumped from to double up their braking speed.
Only they, and now Star Force, had that oh so valuable ability, and it allowed them to get to the semi-hidden fleet bases and massacre the staging fleets there before the virus was counteracted. That meant the planetary defense fleets they were also engaging didn’t have the backup they expected, allowing the Hycre to engage them head on and tie them up so they couldn’t reposition to assist the battle stations that the other Alliance races were ‘pwning.’
That left the defense fleets over the worlds that the Alliance hadn’t hit yet as the only free ships to reposition, save for a handful of patrol fleets that the Hycre hadn’t gotten to. After a stretch of hesitation they all began redeploying to Vreen, one of the worlds that the Kvash were attacking with a single starbase and four battleships, plus a cluster of heavy cruisers. The Nestafar’s intent was to isolate it and take it out with massive numbers while the rest of the Alliance was engaged, even if it meant leaving their other worlds undefended, for they could clearly see they were getting overrun, and before long they wouldn’t have the fleet strength to take on the Kvash, after which point it’d all be over in space.
The winged Nestafar warships rendezvoused in high orbit over Vreen as the Kvash moved from on battle station to another, wiping them off the map with their indomitable firepower and superior defense shields. The Nestafar commanders wisely waited for some two hours to assemble their reinforcements before they moved out, dropping down into the lower orbits and engaging the Kvash battleships and heavy cruisers midway as they moved out to protect the starbase, hoping to make the Nestafar split their forces.
That didn’t happen, and the Nestafar blew right by the much larger Kvash ships, firing as they passed in a long chain that proved too much for the defender’s shields to handle. All four battleships’ shields fell under a brutal assault of green glowing missiles that were being released from the passing ships, none of whom stayed to slug it out. What damage the Kvash did to the Nestafar as they passed was little, given that they couldn’t target the same ship twice at the speeds they were moving.
In retrospect the Kvash should have kept their ‘smaller’ ships in close to the starbase, which was where the Nestafar fleet slowed down and began slugging it out at close range. Plasma streamers galore shot out from the Kvash supership, coring enemy warships with single shots, along with clouds of ‘blips’ pouring out from the white hull and moving to intercept the thousands of incoming missiles before they could hit the shields.
What followed was a massacre on both sides, for the Nestafar had the numbers to take the starbase down, but in doing so it cost them greatly. Neither the Bsidd nor Hycre were in a position to assist, for they were engaged with other Nestafar fleets across the system, so as the starbase resigned itself to destruction it launched a flotilla of landing craft out down towards the planet below, carrying the massive number of ground troops and equipment that were onboard, hoping that at least some of them would survive.
The Nestafar intercepted a few of the ships as they left, but given the almost kamikaze-like speeds they were accelerating at, most of the Kvash transports got away from the battle and down into the atmosphere, picking a position in between the heavily shielded Nestafar cities to land. All across the planet the Kvash sensors showed energy domes going up, marking the positions that would have to be assaulted from the ground in lieu of a massive orbital bombardment campaign that none of the three Alliance races were outfitted for.
As the Kvash transports began landing on an uninhabited grassy plain and spilling out their prefab construction units, they were able to look back up into the daytime sky and see the blocky star-shaped wedge that was the starbase as an internal explosion sheared off one of the arms and set it slowly adrift, along with a lot of other tiny pinprick explosions across the hull and the gray/black halo of Nestafar warships that surrounded it.
Knowing that help would eventually be on the way and that the Nestafar warships were ill suited for in-atmosphere operations, the Kvash ground team began implementing the battle plan they’d entered the system with. They picked five locations on the grassy plain, with four directional points around a central fifth, and began assembling the prefab structures they brought with them, using the transports to fly the material out to the various locations.
The structures came together quickly, given that all the Kvash had to do was move them into position and ‘click’ them together. As they did that, with the transports doubling as flying cranes to lift various pieces into position, Kvash fighters began to deploy from cargo containers and take to the sky in defensive patrol as swarms of Nestafar fighters began approaching their positions, having come from the nearest cities.
These fighters weren’t Valeries, but rather the Nestafar’s native designs, which the Kvash had battle simmed against numerous times. They were flat and tri-pointed, like a ninja’s throwing star, and moved extremely well on lateral angles, but less so in climbing and diving. They had minimal shields but very good hull armor, taking a cue from their walkers, but it also made them heavy and a touch slow.
The Kvash fighters were also heavy and slow, but that was because of the large amount of tech they’d squeezed into the confined space of their antler-shaped craft. A short pointed nose cone feathered back into four hull segments splaying out to aft, the middle two of which went high, and the outer two went low, offering weapons on all four to have a forward line of sight. The fighter was twice the size of the Nestafar’s Jennsa, but nearly as fast…which was to say slow by Alliance standards, but the Kvash didn’t like using the Valeries as much as some of the other races did, due to their easy ability to be shot down.
Or so the Kvash thought. The Valerie was a well-defended, nimble, fast fighter…but sticking to their rock mentality the Kvash version made the Calavari’s look easy to kill. The Kiach had thick hull armor surrounding the pilot’s pod, which like Star Force mech designs didn’t have a window to the exterior. It was thoroughly encased in multiple layers of protection, making for an ‘egg’ design within the fighter, around which the four hulls of the starfighter radiated. With the forward hull nose cone pointing out in front of it, it was almost impossible to directly target the pilot’s cradle, which allowed many downed Kvash pilots to walk away and fly another day.
But as thick as the armored layers were, the defense shields were extremely robust. From Star Force’s perspective the Kiach was more of a gunship than a fighter, and that’s how the Kvash used them. They didn’t even bother trying to outfly their opponents, preferring instead to arrange situations where they’d trade weaponsfire, with their superior defenses winning out.
That meant the Kiaches taking to the air over Vreen were worth several Nestafar Jennsas each, and the Kvash had packed plenty of them into the transports. The equally white fighters rose up into the sky by the bunches and fanned out, creating a wide perimeter around the construction field as the 5 outposts were beginning construction. That perimeter thickened considerably, then several tendrils of fighters shot off to intercept the incoming Jennsas before they could get over the landing area, inciting three separate midair battles as Nestafar walkers within the nearby cities and further defense bases began assembling to await transport out to the new warzone.
The fighter combat slewed to the Kvash side, given that the Nestafar didn’t totally overwhelm them with numbers. A few of the Jennsa got through to make strafing runs on the construction crews and transports, but not enough to stop their progress, for there were so many transports on the ground or hovering in the air that the Nestafar had too many targets to choose from, and any damaged equipment was quickly replaced by others.
Eventually the starfighter battle thinned, but it didn’t abate, for the Nestafar continued sending reinforcements over from other cities, ensuring a continuing battle until the Kvash eventually lost to attrition…or so it seemed until the central construction site completed a partial power up and the battle fort began pumping out anti-air plasma blasts at the closest fighters and lachar-like beams at those further off.
That took care of the stragglers getting past the main melee, and soon the central battle fort raised its defense shields, claiming a tiny piece of Vreen for the Kvash and establishing the centerpiece in their strongpoint defense that would soon see four spurs added to it in the coming hours. Each battle fort was equipped with shields and weaponry capable of defending against the Nestafar walkers, including the super dragons, meaning that once the Kvash got set up on a world they were very difficult to remove.
The Nestafar knew this, which was why ground troops and fighters were being assembled from across the planet and shifted over to the landing zone as quickly as possible, hoping to take down some of the Kvash transports that were now taking cover beneath the battle fort’s anti-air defenses as they waited to unload their cargos. The starbase had been so large it held an insane number of troops, and even with the losses they suffered coming down to the planet there were still hundreds of thousands of Kvash sealed up inside waiting to be deployed…but they weren’t going to do so until they got a proper strongpoint established, else they’d risk losing their troops unnecessarily.
By keeping them in the transports they maintained the option of redeploying to another location or running away if this landing zone was overrun. So as more of the 5 battle forts came online, additional transports were ordered to unload their personnel and equipment to man and expand them, for they weren’t just stubby blocks of defenses, but rather Lego-like building segments that could be added to over time.
Take a small battle fort, add fully loaded transports and a healthy dose of time, and they’d see a plant-like growth that would eventually merge the central fort with the four spurs, creating a gigantic fortress whose combined shield power would be equivalent of the bubble shields protecting the Nestafar cities from bombardment.
If the Kvash got that far, then they will have secured a route of resupply from orbit, allowing even more troops to come down had they more ships waiting. They did not, for the other starbases were doing the exact same thing on other worlds. That said, once the Kvash opened the door to the surface the Bsidd’s weaker troops would follow them down, take up residence inside the mega fort, then begin deploying out with the Kvash to assault the surrounding cities.
Against one race the Nestafar could hold their own, but with all three Alliance races working together to overlap their strengths the Nestafar were at an extreme disadvantage in skill, tactics, and technology…but what they did have were numbers, for the system housed more than 8 trillion of the winged vermin, and their millions of cities were well defended, calling into question the Alliance’s ability to take more than one or two worlds.
And after that what would they do, with fleeing Nestafar ships carrying word out to nearby systems that Orica was under assault? They would eventually send reinforcements to oust the invaders, while the nearest Alliance worlds were months away.
At the moment that didn’t matter, for the fight that had been long in the making was finally here, with both sides hammering each other across the Orica System on a scale of warfare that had not been seen in millennia.
3
January 16, 2444
Orica System
Nestarraffa (Nestafar Homeworld)
It was the Bsidd who had been tasked with assaulting the Nestafar homeworld, and after taking several days to clean out its orbital tracks of every ship and station the enemy had built up, they began landing ground teams en mass, as they and the Kvash were doing on numerous other planets and moons across the system. The Hycre fleet, or rather what was left of it, was still moving about from planetoid to planetoid engaging the remains of the mobile Nestafar defenses, keeping their attention away from the Kvash and Bsidd while they focused on ground assaults.
Not every planetoid in the system was under assault, nor could they be given how many there were, but Nestarraffa had been chosen as one of the primary targets, thus it got tagged for the first round of assaults, with the Bsidd devoting more ships and troops towards it than any other location.
Unlike Vreen, Nestarraffa was a world covered in one unending cityscape, making landing troops more difficult, which was why the Bsidd had been chosen to hit it. Their battle plans didn’t call for establishing strongpoints and battle forts like the Kvash did, but rather in pouring an insane number of units down onto the planet and overwhelming the defenders with numbers and superior technology.
Trick of it was, the Nestafar had greater numbers on planet than the Bsidd could hope to counter, meaning they had to pick their targets…which in this case were the primary shield generators.
While the urban landscape covered the entire landlocked planet, the primary shields did not. Instead they covered large swaths of the city, leaving gaps where the Bsidd transports came down and began spilling out their own mutli-legged walkers while a battle for air superiority was taking place over the 184 landing zones.
Immediately upon being dropped by advance transports, the walkers skittered off through the narrow city streets in search of weapons batteries and secondary shield generators to hit, with Bsidd troops staying near the LZs and clearing out the surrounding buildings and establishing a perimeter within which to begin unpacking the larger transports. Out of those would come their flying fortresses, which were the equivalent of hovering battle forts shaped like a horseshoe. Tendrils appeared to grow out of the structure, then wrap around it in a bird nest-like motif that held a vast array of weapons, both for anti-air and against ground targets.
With the walkers leading the way and hitting key infrastructure around the LZs, thousands of the massive flying fortresses, each more than a kilometer wide, took off towards the primary shield generators, being escorted by scores of Bsidd-built Valeries that took on their standard blue/purple coloration. Working in consort, the formations fought their way to the edge of the nearest shield domes and began assaulting specific patches of it with choreographed disruptor strikes, trying to destabilize the shield segment enough to create a temporary opening.
A scattering of Nestafar walkers came out to oppose them, but they were limited by the geography of the city streets and were met with the powerful underside weaponry of the flying fortresses and gunned down easily. As the Nestafar quickly called off the meaningless assaults and began to pool their local defenses underneath the shield for a more sizeable counterattack, the Bsidd pounded the outer edge until a gap formed…then the disruptor fire spread out to the edges, holding the opening while one of the flying fortresses pushed through.
With it came a slew of Valeries that immediately engaged the fighters inside, for the dome itself had a radius of several hundred miles. With over 30 flying fortresses hammering the shield and keeping the breach open, dozens more passed through but the walkers and infantry did not. They could have gone underneath the outer edge where it met the building tops, for the Nestafar designs didn’t allow for it to drop all the way to the ground, but they didn’t, instead holding their position and protecting the flying fortresses as they kept the gap open long enough for the others to get inside.
After that the ones left outside retreated, along with the walkers, and headed back towards the LZ before breaking off and getting a head start towards another distant shield dome, with the walkers skittering rapidly through the streets to get to the target and passing by most of the Nestafar that were in the way.
As they redeployed the flying fortresses inside the first shield dome accelerated towards the generators at the center, letting the Valeries with them handle most of the anti-air duties, as well as flying ahead and scouting out larger defensive weapons that needed to be disabled before they could prove dangerous to the flying fortresses.
With a tempered pace the Bsidd fought their way across the interior, knocking out several large defense cannons that were designed for aerial defense against warships or transports had the Bsidd been stupid enough to fly overhead, and eventually got to the dome’s center where the shield generators themselves were protected by a secondary shield, which they began assaulting en mass.
Once the enemy fighters within the dome had been destroyed the Bsidd Valeries added their small firepower to the attack, flying low on the streets and undershooting the bottom edge of the shield in some cases, but mostly providing support against Nestafar infantry that was deploying in a defensive perimeter. Their scatterguns proved most effective in knocking them down, but killing them had never been the objective.
Eventually the secondary shield succumbed to the firepower of over 100 flying fortresses, allowing the secondary generators to be targeted and destroyed…thus exposing the well-armored primaries. It took longer to knock them out, but down they eventually came, exposing the city beneath to aerial attack.
But the flying fortresses and remaining Valeries didn’t stay, instead they too began to retreat, ignoring the valuable infrastructure below them that now lay open to assault. They didn’t even bother to destroy the scattering of other small secondary shield generators that were now popping up in place of the primary over key buildings. The Bsidd simply turned around and flew off, leaving the cityscape exposed.
They repeated the same process over the coming days, assaulting the shield domes, creating a gap, then sending their flying fortresses and fighters in to destroy the generators, after which they ignored the Nestafar cities, moving about stripping off their defenses one after another. Ironically the Nestafar’s heavy walkers did them little good on the city streets where they were unable to bunch up and concentrate their firepower. They were left scattered and isolated, allowing the Bsidd to pick them off from the air with their heavy weapons on the flying fortresses when they so chose.
The Nestafar did try and gather their strength to assault the LZs, which quickly became rubble fields. When that happened the walkers regained some of their advantage, crawling over the downed buildings in what eventually looked like a large grained sandbox, but they were unable to penetrate to the center of the LZs with the Bsidd walkers, smaller, faster, and in greater number, chewing apart the heavily armored Nestafar versions after the Valeries and flying fortresses busted them up from above.
Once again the Nestafar’s aerial weakness came back to haunt them, for the Bsidd were far more capable on the ground than the Calavari, and they had access to the Valeries that complimented the flying fortresses very well. Not even the anti-air defensive cupolas on the ground were able to do much against the Bsidd, for the Valeries flew in low at building height and popped the turrets beneath their minimum depression range where they could, while going after the others with walkers.
The sheer number of Nestafar on the planet made it a pitched fight, with high casualties on both sides, but the Bsidd clearly had the advantage, merely having to work through every stage of the assault while the Nestafar continually tried and failed to counter them. After several different tactical maneuvers the Nestafar resorted to an all on infantry assault, rousing the native inhabitants to the air on their own wings and rushed the LZs, providing more targets than the Bsidd could fire at.
That desperate and suicidal tactic actually worked, with the Nestafar getting inside the Bsidd’s defensive perimeter and attacking the staging areas and landing craft on ‘foot,’ though in their case it was flying over the debris, using their wings to avoid the rough terrain and bring their handheld weapons in close to the insect-like Bsidd, whose own infantry met them amongst the grounded ships.
What followed was wholesale slaughter on both sides. The Bsidd skittered around on their multiple appendages, firing blue plasma orbs from ‘wrist’ launchers and weathering some of the Nestafar’s own red plasma with thorax shields, both physical and energy…but there was so many Nestafar that they quickly wore down and the casualties began to mount.
The Nestafar got inside every open door they could find, trying to disable or take control of the ships, walkers, and aircraft in the LZ, including some of the flying fortresses that were hovering over the engagement and laying waste to the Nestafar by the hundreds per second as they fired into the clouds of flapping wings with their plasma and disruptors. Body parts rained down on the Bsidd below, making for a landscape of total horror, but neither side so much as blinked, for both were totally committed to the assault…the Nestafar in defense of their homeworld, and the Bsidd out of vengeance for their former ally’s betrayal.
The Bsidd assault wings out taking down the Nestafar shield domes didn’t turn back, allowing whatever happened at the LZs to work itself out while they stayed on mission. Unlike Star Force or the Kvash, the Bsidd operated off a military strategy that allowed for losing massive amounts of troops to achieve victory. They weren’t so casual about the deaths of their own as the lizards were, but the lengths of sacrifice they were willing to go to in order to achieve their most important objectives was both awe inspiring and gut wrenching at the same time.
Partway through the LZ counter assaults, which were happening simultaneously across the planet, a few small Hycre warships came down from orbit and punched their way into the Nestafar infantry clouds, ramming some of them into hot goo while torching others with their plasma cannons at pointblank range…but still the Nestafar didn’t flee, instead they were being continually reinforced as more of the ‘civilian’ population kept flying towards the LZs armed with hand weapons, which in some cases were merely blades.
Up in orbit more Hycre ships were arriving, following on the heels of Nestafar warships that began redeploying from other planets, leaving them undefended in order to come to the aid of their homeworld. The growing fleet in orbit was already engaging the Bsidd and pushing them to the limit, which the Hycre realized and began diverting a scattering of ships their way from other current engagements. That made it harder for the Hycre fleets which were donating some of their ships to win the battles they were already engaged in, but they weren’t going to let the Bsidd over Nestarraffa or any of the other worlds be wiped out, and the same went for the Kvash.
The Hycre had no ground troops in the fight, which made them almost obsessive about protecting the other races’ fleets in space. They were overextending themselves, they knew, which would result in them losing even more ships, but for them it was a matter of honor, and they countered every unexpected Nestafar naval tactic by pulling the burden upon their own fleets, leaving their allies with the same basic battle plan as they’d discussed prior to the invasion.
Them sending ships down to the surface was an act of desperation and ego, for while they were a naval power only, that power did extend down through the atmosphere if and when they chose, so when it appeared that the Bsidd might be losing their LZs to the unexpected mass infantry assault the Hycre put it on themselves again to change the course of battle.
They couldn’t respond quickly, given that they were bringing ships in from other planets, but the LZ assaults weren’t exactly surprise attacks either. They were a Starship Troopers affair, with the Bsidd holding out as long as they could against an unending stream of Nestafar over the span of hours that then stretched into days.
Rather than sit and watch while their homeworld was being invaded, the native Nestafar from around the planet were being called out to fight and were responding in huge numbers that only a flying race could muster, for as they rose up out of their dwellings they bunched together like a swarm of insects that grew continually larger, then began travelling across hundreds of kilometers, picking up more numbers as they went, turning the skies over the planet into living rivers all emptying out on the Bsidd LZs.
It got so bad that on the third day one of the Kvash starbases repositioned itself into orbit and began dropping reinforcements down to the planet. Their fighters replaced the Bsidd ones who had run out of fuel and crashed, for they couldn’t access the facilities at the LZs for resupply and they didn’t attempt a run up to orbit because they were so overwhelmed with easy targets all they could think of was point and shoot…and shoot…and shoot.
The flying fortresses were another matter, with ample fuel to stay aloft for as long as the Nestafar had suicidal troops to throw at them. With the debris-strewn ground now covered with an ever thickening layer of bodies, the Kvash had to land well away from the LZ in order to find clear space in which to deploy their own infantry…each of which was a battle pod slightly larger than a Nestafar protomech.
Star Force had nicknamed them ‘metroids’ after the power suit Samus Aran wore in the video games, for they had a ‘ball’ mode and a mech configuration. When in ball mode they floated above the surface, acting like a low level aircraft that kept to within 100 meters of the ground. When in mech mode the metroid would sprout a head, arms, and legs that loosely mimicked their pilot’s physiology.
All Kvash infantry were metroids, making them the most robust in all of the Alliance, even more so than the Archons…though some of the trailblazers would dispute that, given their psionic abilities that could cripple the metroid’s pilot. When they began spilling out of their own landing zone they immediately deployed into ball mode and shot off across the cityscape towards the ongoing battle, diving into the Nestafar flows and shooting them down with the single weapon that ball mode afforded them.
When they got to the body mounds that were now the Bsidd LZ they dropped to the ground into mech mode, finding the scattering of clean areas where the few remaining Bsidd troops were holding out. They’d been excavating the body parts like dirt and forming them into barricade mounds, using equipment onboard the transports or even the transports themselves to mash aside the piles.
When the first of the metroids arrived they set their legs down on charred rubble and began firing up into the clouds and drawing the Nestafar’s attention away from the cowering Bsidd. The metroids’ shields absorbed a torrent of plasma all the while the armored infantry shot down many more of their pathetic Nestafar counterparts, taking cover underneath the several horseshoes hovering above whom were all but impervious to the enemy’s infantry weapons.
From there on out the battles continued, with the Kvash only able to reinforce some of the LZs. Those that they did held out, somehow, while the others were eventually overrun. Some of the transports managed to flee, but others were boarded or damaged during the fighting, with a small percentage of the Nestafar infantry coming to the fight carrying explosives or rocket launchers, though it was nearly impossible to tell who had what in such a massive swarm.
The LZs that held eventually thinned out the opposition, then pushed back the engagement zone to a perimeter that allowed reinforcements to start coming down again, not in the form of troops but of supplies, in particular ammo replacements, for plasma didn’t manifest itself without a matter component, and those reserves on the flying fortresses had to be refilled occasionally as they continued to puncture shield dome after shield dome while ignoring most of the attacks being thrown at them by the infantry in those areas.
The battles across the planet lasted for well over a month before the Bsidd had all the shield generators knocked down, after which they began recalling their troops to the LZs that were still under assault by the infantry flowing in from far reaching corners of the planet. The Kvash with occasional Hycre support from low flying warships held the handful of LZs that remained long enough for the Bsidd to pull out their flying fortresses and Valeries that remained, after which the Kvash also removed their troops, seeming to flee the planet.
Fleeing yes, but not conceding. Once all Alliance personnel was cleared off the surface, numerous Bsidd jumpships moved into low orbit and began launching spherical objects down to the surface by the thousands. Each one of which was a tactical warhead pinpointing a specific surface grid. In horrifying mathematical precision, rows of impact points blossomed on the surface, destroying the tiny buildings in massive concussion waves, along with the Nestafar population still inside.
When one row of a sector was completed the orbs began stitching the adjacent rows, one after another, methodically carpeting the entire surface of the Nestafar homeworld with impact craters. The Alliance didn’t intend to capture the planet, nor did they invite a surrender. They were here for one purpose and one purpose only…to wipe out the Nestafar as they had been attempting to wipe out the Calavari.
And what was occurring on Nestarraffa wasn’t an isolated occurrence, for the Bsidd repeated the orbital bombardment on every other planet the Alliance was fighting on once their ground troops succeeded in stripping the Nestafar of their defense shields. When the primary worlds were hit and destroyed, the remaining Alliance troops took to the secondary targets, all the while the Hycre fleet fought off the incoming Nestafar reinforcements from other systems as they dribbled in.
The massacre of the Orica system did not occur quickly, taking more than a year to run its course, and the Alliance fleet that finally left the now dead system was a tiny fraction of what it had been at the outset, but it had accomplished its purpose and the survivors left victorious on their long trip back to Calavari territory, where they split up and began their equally long trips back to their respective territories…all the while the war between the Nestafar and Calavari continued on oblivious in most systems, for that was the nature of interstellar warfare. One system didn’t know what was happening in another as it was occurring, but word of what happened would slowly spread from ship to ship and race to race.
The name Orica would become synonymous with ‘betrayal,’ ‘vengeance,’ and ‘annihilation,’ but to the Archons it would come to mean something altogether different…putting the final nail in the Alliance coffin, as far as the Humans were concerned.
4
March 19, 2446
Nevarsor System
Namek
Paul sat staring at the hologram of the Bsidd jumpships bombarding Nestarraffa and annihilating the population with his jaw clenching in anger. He’d been reviewing the battle data that the Alliance had transmitted to them via the relay network for the past 3 days, massive as it was, and only now had he gotten to the crux of their strategy. They hadn’t gone to Orica to cripple the Nestafar’s shipyards or to destroy their warfleet or to hinder their economy…they’d gone to outright slaughter the enemy.
That didn’t sit well with Paul, and a message from Jason that had come along with the data packet through their own interstellar relay link out to Namek had suggested as much. He’d told Paul what he thought of the assault, in exquisite detail, as had several other trailblazers in forwarded comments, but rather than skip ahead Paul had decided to work through the year-long invasion chronologically and was only now coming to the civilian slaughter.
The Bsidd’s battle tactics were bad enough, wasting personnel when they had the technology to adopt either the Kvash’s or Star Force’s approach, but laying waste to the Nestafar homeworld was going too far. The Alliance hadn’t been fighting to defend themselves or to neutralize the enemy, they’d gone there to kill them. And while Paul was pleased to see the Nestafar get kicked in the proverbial nuts, this was not a battle plan that he ever would have signed onto, and he was disappointed and disturbed that the Hycre had.
The Kvash had also participated in the bombardment, not of Nestarraffa, but of the other worlds…though Paul hadn’t gotten that far yet. Jason’s notes had indicated they were just as methodical about wiping out the Nestafar as the Bsidd were, showing their true colors as well. From the beginning Star Force had known little about most of the races in the Alliance, but from reading their available histories something had always been amiss with those two, and now it was clear that neither race could be trusted.
Star Force had little contact with either of them, given their territories were on the other side of the Alliance, with both the Hycre and Calavari between them…and it was going to stay that way, for the unanimous assessment amongst the trailblazers that had chimed in on the data packet and the subsequent message updates coming through the relay grid about it, which Paul would be adding to shortly, was that the Bsidd and Kvash were now on their own against the lizards. Star Force wasn’t going to come to the aid of such a dishonorable race, so while in appearance they were both part of the Alliance, the trailblazers were no longer considering them to be allies.
If the Kvash and Bsidd could do what they did to the Nestafar, then they could do it to anyone else they considered an enemy, for they had no honor. Killing the enemy because you had no choice was altogether different from having their lives in the palm of your hand and choosing to crush them when you were in full control. There was a great difference between defeating a civilization and annihilating one, and what the Alliance had just done had been the latter.
Paul unclenched his jaw and sat back, watching the bombs fall from orbit and obliterate swaths of the holographic planet’s surface on a scale that no nuke could ever touch. Not even Star Force could make warheads of that caliber, and even as Paul watched the horror of it all he wondered if the Bsidd had a tactical missile version that could be used against, say, a Kvash starbase if they wished. He mentally cataloged the possibility, in case Star Force and the Bsidd ever found themselves at odds, but given the distances between their respective territories he doubted that would ever happen.
The lizards would probably wipe them out first.
Paul watched through the conclusion of the bombardment of the Nestafar homeworld, then left the room to get some air. He eventually ended up down on Balboa Lane with a handful of other Archons and summoned up a punching bag target off to the side in the huge chamber so as not to interfere with those running obstacle courses.
He proceeded to lightly pound the target with punches and kicks, slowly escalating up to more powerful hits as he bled off his anger, allowing his mind to process more smoothly. This wasn’t the Alliance he’d thought they’d joined, nor was it an Alliance they were going to remain part of, for they certainly weren’t going to participate or condone any such barbarism, but it made him wonder just how many of the other races would.
He doubted the Calavari would, but the fact that the Hycre had sat by and watched as the Bsidd and Kvash obliterated non-military targets now had him questioning all of their allies, some of which they’d gained considerable influence with. At last count there were 32 races that made up the Alliance, with all of the Nestafar’s allies having been abandoned by their betrayal and staying with the overall group, such as the Protovic. A few new races had been added since the summit where the Alliance had officially been forged, but the main players were still the same…the Calavari, Kvash, Hycre, and Bsidd.
Star Force’s stature had grown, but they still weren’t first tier within the Alliance. Paul knew that many races would now follow the Bsidd’s and Kvash’s lead, emulating their slaughter. Even the more sensible races, put under the strains of war, could cave to the barbarism being displayed unless there remained a beacon of honor present to show them that there was another way. The Calavari had held that position within the Alliance, but now as their civilization was shrinking and their military might weakening they clearly didn’t hold the influence they once had, otherwise the Bsidd, Kvash, and Hycre would have included them in the assault on Orica…even if it was just on a symbolic level.
The Alliance was already fracturing, and Paul feared it would devolve into a barbaric fight for survival rather than stand as a united front against barbarism. Most people, he knew, would trade their principles for survival, and Humans right up there among the other races. Star Force wouldn’t, because the Archons and Davis wouldn’t…or at least the trailblazers wouldn’t, and now that Paul thought about it he couldn’t say the same for all the Archons, especially the younger ones. They mimicked those that had come ahead of them, following their lead just as he feared the other races would follow the Bsidd and Kvash’s example.
Take the trailblazers and the other experienced Archons out of the equation and what would Star Force be? Take Davis out and what would it become? Paul knew that he’d never turn to barbarism in order to survive, and trusted the other trailblazers were the same. He knew they were the same, but they were only 100 out of trillions of individuals across Alliance territory. Unfortunately most people’s true colors were not golden. They were either blank slates that could go either way based on those around them or they were selfish, greedy, unscrupulous bastards just waiting for an opportunity to stab you in the back to advance themselves.
Then again, he wondered how many more individuals out there were like him. His true colors had always been golden, but before he’d joined Star Force he didn’t understand much of anything. It was only after learning and growing did his true colors fully manifest themselves, before which he’d been in sort of a protective cocoon, going along with the flow of society until he figured out who he really was and began customizing his own life accordingly.
If there wasn’t a beacon of hope, a shining light for other younglings out there to see, how many good people would stay in their cocoons, prisoners of their own societies for the simple, inescapable reason that they’d never seen anything different on which to pattern themselves on…or those like Paul that had just needed a wakeup call to ignite his own core nature. He’d seen firsthand how Earth had changed due to Star Force over the past 400 years, and while there were still bad elements there, the masses had shifted to a more enlightened state…but take away Star Force and he knew it wouldn’t sustain. It’d devolve back towards barbarism and tyranny.
Which was why he couldn’t let this pass.
Paul spent the next four hours in Balboa Lane, punching and kicking his way to a conclusion…along with scuffed knuckles. When he sent the target back into its wall niche he left the sanctum and boarded a dropship, taking him up to orbit where he commandeered one of the warships and jumped out of the system a few hours later enroute to the nearest Hycre colony in the expansion zone.
Three weeks later…
When the Star Force warship decelerated against the yellow/orange star of the Cadathi System it entered a system that contained only two planets, both of them gas giants that had a total of 56 moons between them. All were rocky with little to no atmosphere, but they did make plotting jumps more hazardous. Fortunately Star Force had already been to this system and updated their ever growing galactic map, so that they knew the orbital placements of each of the gravity wells before making their microjump out to the larger of the two gas giants…after using their gravity drives’ acquisition programing to verify that there was gravity pulling from where it was supposed to.
Without any navigational hiccups the warship jumped into high orbit around the gas giant, which was so massive it would have become a star were it not for the fact that it didn’t contain much hydrogen. The core of the planet was solid, in fact, probably a collection of a few moons that had fallen into the nitrogen/sulfur dioxide sphere. Around it was a hardened layer of the ‘gas’ itself, having been compressed into solid form. Further out from it was a liquid ocean, also due to the pressures involved, but beyond that tiny core the rest of the massive planet was gas…very, very hot gas.
Which was how the Hycre liked it. Paul knew they had habitats down inside the planet’s faded yellow clouds, but the ship’s telaris sensors could only detect the uppermost few. Bright white bands of clouds stretched across the upper atmosphere like claw marks on the otherwise monotone planet that was entirely unsuitable for Humans, but was a garden spot for the Hycre who didn’t even need environmental suits to move about in the atmosphere.
To do that the winds needed to be low, which they were according to the planetary data he had available, but only at certain altitudes. The white streaks were evidence of higher velocities and currents, making the gaseous planet a geographical maze in that it had to be viewed in 3D as opposed to a flat map.
That didn’t matter to Paul, for there was nowhere down in the clouds for him or the warship to go. The sulfuric acid alone would eat the paint off the hull if the shields weren’t raised, and Paul found it odd that the Hycre’s bloated bodies didn’t respond to it in a negative fashion. To them it was no more harmful than a cloud of fog or a rain shower, making the world below Paul’s warship truly an alien environment.
The Hycre were also a truly alien race, but they’d found common ground with the Humans in several areas of commerce and warfare, all starting with the navally dominant race coming to Star Force’s aid on Corneria centuries ago. Their willingness to help an unknown neighbor had spoken well about them and their intentions, but now Paul was wondering if he’d misread their alien nature and truly wished he could get within a few meters of one so he could poke around inside its head, but given their varied life support necessities that wasn’t going to happen here.
So he was going to have to get his answers the old fashioned way, using guile, intelligence, and diplomacy…the first step of which was not to make immediate contact upon arrival. Instead he had the warship maneuver down into low orbit, beneath the myriad of moons into a clean orbital track that gave them a good sensor view of the spacebound Hycre infrastructure.
There were a dozen different stations in planetary orbit, plus many more circling individual moons. The rocky planetoids were being mined by the Hycre in their awkward fashion, though Paul noted that two of the mining colonies were using Star Force equipment. He recognized the largely automated drilling machines from the catalog of products that the megacorporation offered to buyers from other races, but this was the first such use he’d seen the Hycre make of them and wondered just how much better they were performing than the other sites.
Amongst the stations and mining colonies there were 100 or so ships moving about planetary orbit, and he guessed there was at least half again that amount around the other gas giant. Both planets were habitable by Hycre standards, but the one below him now was the more desirable one and had been the first to be colonized some 120 years ago, which is why Paul had chosen to come here.
He let his warship sit in orbit, watching as two Hycre cruisers and a scattering of corvettes traced their lazy orbits around the planet at various locations, none of which moved to intercept the Human ship. They were longtime allies and friends, with a level of comfortability between the races given the fact that they shared a few star systems, and even though this wasn’t one of them there was no animosity on either side resulting from their arrival.
Paul held position in orbit for several hours before the Hycre finally made contact with them, asking their purpose here and offering any assistance should they require it. In response Paul politely demanded that he speak with the senior-most Hycre in the system, of which contained some 3 billion of them, though Star Force had never been able to confirm those numbers. When his comm channel got switched over to a mid-level administrator he refused to discuss anything with them, holding out with his original demand.
It wasn’t until he identified himself as the Star Force naval Supreme Commander did he get the response he wanted, though that title was more for their benefit. The Hycre had never quite understood the Humans’ lack of hierarchy within their military, so Paul had found it best at times to translate his standing into terms they could understand…though Roger and Liam would have raised an eyebrow at that particular title.
Shortly thereafter a holographic transmission came through, as opposed to the standard audial comm that had to be computer translated into English. As Paul stood up from his command chair on the bridge a large hologram of the mohawked gas bag appeared before him in actual size, which was akin to a small car.
SPEAK SUPREME COMMANDER.
Paul stared back at the eyeless creature, knowing that it perceived the world around it through its skin, including some level of visual information, giving it its own spherical sight.
“Tell me what you know of what transpired in the Orica System.”
5
“Unacceptable,” Paul said firmly, though that firmness was probably lost in the translation program so he focused solely on the words he was using. “If we are fighting the Cajdital because they are barbaric and unable to be negotiated with, then we cannot be the same.”
THEY BEGAN THIS WAR. SO DID THE NESTAFAR. WE ARE NOT THE SAME.
“We are if we do not have a code of conduct.”
SUCH A CODE IS A LUXURY IN WAR. SOMETIMES IT MUST BE ABANDONED TO DO WHAT IS NECESSARY FOR SURVIVAL. WE ARE NOT ALONE IN THIS. YOU ALSO PURGE THE CAJDITAL.
“We have taken both Cajdital and Nestafar prisoner. The Cajdital kill themselves when they are taken captive and cannot find a way to further harm us. The Nestafar do not. Despite this fact we still offer the option of surrender to the Cajdital. The Alliance never made an offer in Orica, not even once, on one world. What you, the Bsidd, and the Kvash did was outright slaughter them. That is not something Star Force can condone.”
WHAT IS DONE IS ALREADY DONE. YOUR APPROVAL IS NOT REQUIRED.
“True,” Paul admitted. “The events at Orica are fixed, but Star Force’s future relations with the Alliance and the Hycre are not.”
WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU ASKING OF US?
“We cannot let ourselves become butchers, no matter what the circumstances. That goes for Human, Hycre, and every other race in the Alliance.”
BUT THAT IS PRECISELY WHAT YOU HAVE BECOME WITH THE CAJDITAL. THEY GIVE YOU NO CHOICE BUT TO SLAUGHTER THEM, AND WISELY YOU DO.
“There is a difference between neutralizing threats and killing those who cannot fight back. Every lizard settlement we’ve razed from orbit had the capability to grow to the point where it could produce warships and weapons that could be turned against us. If we left it alone it would come back to hurt us later. The Cajdital have no civilians. They have no children. They are genetically engineered and grown on demand with inborn knowledge of who and what they are expected to be. Their individuality has been suppressed to the point they’re practically zom…they’re living weapons.”
“We have been trying to find a way to negotiate with them, but with very little success. Every individual we’ve encountered has been fully committed to their race’s goals and our destruction, but we haven’t let that change us and the way we fight. We kill them when we have to, but their overall destruction is not one of our goals. Neutralizing the threat they pose is.”
BY YOUR OWN ADMISSION NEUTRALIZING THE THREAT WILL REQUIRE WIDESPREAD SLAUGHTER BECAUSE THEY WILL NOT ALLOW ANOTHER OPTION.
“Possibly, but we haven’t given up looking for alternatives…and I didn’t come here because of your battles with the Cajdital. The Nestafar are the matter at hand. You had options with them, and you chose slaughter. That is the problem.”
IF YOU HAVE SEEN THE BATTLE DATA THEN YOU KNOW THE ORBITAL BOMBARDMENT WAS NOT UNDERTAKEN BY THE HYCRE.
“No it wasn’t, but you had to know the battle plan before the invasion began, which meant you were ok with it.”
NEITHER I NOR ANY OTHER IN THIS SYSTEM WAS PRIVY TO THOSE PLANS. WE CANNOT ANSWER THAT QUESTION FOR YOU.
“I didn’t think you could, but you’re the closest Hycre I have to talk to.”
WHAT DO YOU PLAN TO ACHIEVE WITH THIS CONVERSATION?
“An understanding,” Paul stated flatly. “Star Force holds to a code of conduct, and we expect our allies to do the same, otherwise they’re not worth being allies. To date I’ve not been disappointed by the Hycre, but now I am and I’ve begun to wonder if this was an isolated incident or a part of Hycre methodology that I was previously unaware of. You should be able to address that.”
YOU SEEK COMMON GROUND NOW WHERE YOU HAD PREVIOUSLY ASSUMED THERE TO BE?
“Yes. I seek confirmation or clarification.”
A REASONABLE REQUEST. ASK YOUR QUESTIONS.
“Do the Hycre seek to eradicate the Nestafar for their betrayal of the Alliance?”
WE SEEK PUNISHMENT, NOT ERADICATION.
“What is your idea of punishment?”
THERE ARE MANY OPTIONS. FORFEITURE OF TERRITORY AND TECHNOLOGY IS STANDARD.
“Define technology.”
SHIPS AND WEAPONS.
“Have the Hycre ever eradicated a planetary population?”
TWICE.
“Explain the circumstances.”
INTERNAL CONFLICTS.
Paul frowned. “They were Hycre?”
YES.
That was disturbing…and yet it made sense, given that the Hycre didn’t have ground troops to assault worlds with, nor an ability to bombard a planet from orbit. That’s why they’d coopted Star Force for several assaults on the lizards.
The disturbing part was that they were capable of doing so, especially to their own people. That told Paul that given the right circumstances they could do it again if they weren’t opposed to the tactic itself.
“Why were your people killed rather than punished?”
SOME DIFFERENCES ARE TOO GREAT TO ACCOMMODATE.
“I need further explanation on that point.”
THEY WERE TRAITORS. WE MAY PUNISH OTHER RACES FOR THEIR ACTIONS, BUT WE HOLD OUR OWN PEOPLE TO HIGHER STANDARDS. THEY SOUGHT REBELLION AND HAD TO BE EXTERMINATED.
That was not what Paul wanted to hear, but it was important information none the less.
“We are not in a position to punish the Bsidd or Kvash for what they did, but we consider what happened at Orica worthy of punishment. As you pointed out, the Hycre did not participate in the bombardment itself, but the fact that you aided in the assault that set up the bombardment, and the fact that you didn’t stop it when it occurred, puts your honor into question.”
“The Bsidd and Kvash are far from here, but Star Force and the Hycre share territory, and this system is largely protected by us as we hold the Cajdital in this area at bay. Ever since our two races met when you came to our aid we have trusted you, but Orica has shaken that trust. Should the Hycre attempt to do the same again, with a Star Force fleet in the same system, our ships will intervene to stop you…so it’s very important that we come to terms now before such a situation can occur.”
YOUR WORDS BORDER ON THREAT AND WARNING, BUT I SEE THE WISDOM IN THEM. OUR RACES DO SHARE BURDENS, AND AS SUCH WE NEED TO UNDERSTAND ONE ANOTHER. I WILL OFFER WHAT EXPLANATIONS I CAN, BUT I CANNOT SPEAK FOR THOSE OUTSIDE THIS SYSTEM. IF YOU SEEK TREATY TERMS I CANNOT SIGN THEM.
“But can you negotiate them in principle?”
SO LONG AS THEY ARE UNBINDING.
“Only unbinding terms would be acceptable, given that we are not aware of each other’s actions the majority of the time.”
YOU DO NOT SEEK REPERCUSSIONS FOR FUTURE ACTIONS THEN?
“I seek an understanding between us, so that if one day Star Force must sever ties with the Hycre it will not be a surprise to either side.”
YOU RELY ON US MORE THAN WE RELY ON YOU. SUCH A SEVERING WOULD BE TO YOUR DISADVANTAGE.
Paul smiled. “That is exactly what I am referring to. You are assuming that our primary motivation is to seek out advantage. It is not. Our first priority is to the truth and to honor…not honor in the form of reputation or status, but in morality.”
YOU SAY YOUR PRIMARY, THEN YOU NAME TWO ITEMS. A PRIMARY MUST ONLY BE ONE.
“Honor is linked to the truth, and cannot be attained through a lie. The truth is rarely acknowledged by those without honor, for they lie to attain their own advantages. In this way the two concepts are intrinsically linked, yet they are separate words for us.”
WHILE TRANSLATIONAL DIFFICULTIES COULD BE AT FAULT, YOUR WORDS MIMIC THOSE OF THE CALAVARI. THEY TOO SPEAK OFTEN OF HONOR AND LINK IT TO STRENGTH. WE ARE NOT IN DISAGREEMENT WITH THEM. WE ARE NOT IN DISAGREEMENT WITH YOU. BUT WE PUT THE NEEDS OF OUR OWN PEOPLE ABOVE THOSE OF OTHERS. WE HAVE NOT ENCOUNTERED A RACE THAT HAS DONE OTHERWISE.
“To me, every race is my people. You are my brothers, same with the Calavari, the Nestafar, the Cajdital, the Kiritas, and others. Even the primitive races that we cannot communicate with are our brothers, right down to the insects that we accidentally step on…” Paul hesitated, remembering that the Hycre don’t ‘step’ on anything. “Even the small, seemingly insignificant lifeforms that most races see as beneath them or as their property. All are living, and therefore my brothers. I can communicate more easily with my own race, given our similarities, as I can communicate more easily with warriors than I can pacifists.”
“And just as I can communicate with you in naval terms better than any other race. Similarities enhance communication, differences hinder it, but all are my brothers, all are my people, and all are my concern…including the Nestafar in Orica who the Alliance slaughtered.”
“That is why I will side with those who are in the right, above and beyond my own race. Doing what is right is the definition of honor. If Humans are in the wrong I will side against them, even if it means my race’s destruction. My ‘people’ are those who hold honor as the highest priority and those that speak the truth, regardless of their race, and it is with them that I will side…always.”
THIS IS WHY YOU ARE NOT CARNIVORS?
“Yes.”
THE CALAVARI DO NOT HOLD HONOR AS YOU DO. THEY CONSUME THE FLESH OF OTHERS.
“In a small amount, yes, and they are in the wrong for it. Not for the consumption, but for the killing. But even they have nearly abandoned the practice because of the logistics. Large civilizations cannot rely on a food source that in itself consumes food, particularly not where land space is limited. Honorable foodstuff production is more efficient and reliable.”
WE CONCUR.
“I am curious,” Paul said, going slightly off topic, “are there other lifeforms in the planets you inhabit, or is it just the Hycre that are present?”
MOST OF OUR WORLDS ARE SOLELY OURS, BUT THERE ARE A FEW WITH INDIGENOUS LIFEFORMS. WE DO NOT CONSUME THEM. WE DO NOT COMMUNICATE WITH THEM. THEY ARE IRRELEVANT AND WE IGNORE THEM.
“There are many on our worlds, and we ignore most of them…but we also take care not to harm them, save for when the harming is unavoidable. We don’t like it when it occurs, and we usually find ways around it, but in clogged ecosystems it is almost impossible to fly through the atmosphere without running into something. We don’t intentionally do it, but when you can’t communicate with the insects in the air, you can’t tell them where to stay away from.”
“The more advanced the race the more options one has, but the inescapable fact is that the universe is chaos. We can either participate in it or rebuff it. The honorable rebuff it, which is what I am doing now. Rebuffing the chaos in Orica and everywhere else in the war zones where it might also be occurring.”
YOUR POINT IS TAKEN.
“Is it? I want you to understand clearly that not only do we not condone such action, but that we will fight against those that take it. We can’t stop what happened in Orica, but if the Alliance does it in the presence of a Star Force fleet we’re not just going to stand by and watch like you did. We’re going to take action, even if it means fighting our own allies, for we will stand against the chaos.”
“To date we’ve haven’t had a problem with the Hycre, but our good relationship won’t stop us from doing what’s right if you should choose to go down that path. Do you understand the implications of what I’m saying?”
YOUR MEANING IS CLEAR, BUT YOUR ACTIONS ARE CONTRADICTORY. EXPLAIN YOUR HONOR REGARDING THE CAJDITAL, FOR IT SEEMS YOU HAVE ABANDONED IT IN THE NAME OF NECESSITY.
Paul suppressed a frown, knowing ahead of time that this was going to be a sticking point. He didn’t like the way they were dealing with the lizards, but so far the enemy hadn’t given them much choice, and until he or one of the other trailblazers figured out a better way to deal with them they were going to have to keep killing them by the droves or see their territory encroach on theirs…at which point numerous worlds would be put at greater risk.
“We have no problem with killing,” Paul began. “We know that most people in the universe are not honorable. If they were we wouldn’t have chaos, or we wouldn’t have it for long, for we’d figure out solutions to minimize or negate it entirely. Those of us who are honorable know that we are few, and that we will live most of our lives alone.”
“Most Humans are not honorable, but what Star Force has done is create a haven for those that are to gather and combine our skills. We have active enemies within the Human population, and I expect we always will. Fighting is to be expected, and while not all fights are to the death, some are, and we don’t shy away from them. If someone needs to be killed we kill them, no hesitation. But those people are threats in some way, and they’re a threat because they chose to be one.”
“We do not kill because an individual belongs to a certain race, we kill because of the actions they take. No one chooses what race they are born into, or on what planet…therefore we will not penalize them for such things. There were probably Nestafar in Orica that had nothing to do with the war against the Calavari and in fact were opposed to it…but the Alliance killed them along with the rest, not because of a choice they’d made, but because of the race they were.”
“The Cajdital don’t choose to be born, but they do choose to try and kill us…so we try and kill them back. Not always, because sometimes we can defeat them without killing them, and we have taken some of them prisoner. When we held them together they killed each other, with the last one standing using its claws to tear out its own throat, for they will not accept imprisonment.”
“Now, we don’t presume all Cajdital will be the same, but so far we haven’t encountered one with a different mindset. We offer surrender before killing their colonies from orbit, and if they would take it we’d make accommodations, but none have as of yet. We’ve stopped taking prisoners by force, for the most part, because it is inconvenient for us to do so and they end up killing themselves anyway. We’ll only go so far, in risking our own people, to keep our enemies alive…but we will try to do so because we are honorable, when we have the advantage.”
“After we learned of the Cajdital’s suicidal tendencies we created wrist cuffs that covered their claws so they couldn’t use them to cut their own throats…and we also started keeping the prisoners separate from one another, so they couldn’t kill each other. When we did, they tried to starve themselves to death. We fed them through forcible means, putting nutrients directly into their blood stream. To do this we had to restrain them, making them little more than objects kept in storage.”
“We didn’t let that continue for long, and eventually we returned them to a Cajdital world, figuring it would be better for them to die in combat than live restrained and stagnant. We flew through enemy fleets to execute a low orbit drop to return the Cajdital to their people, and not because it was to our advantage to do so. Some of our ships took damage in the return, and we expended resources to build the drop pods…or in some cases returned one of their captured ships to them.”
“We returned them because, wayward as they are, they are our brothers, and if they are going to die let it be in battle where they are free to choose their own fate. As dishonorable as the Cajdital are, they are skilled in warfare, and in that small area at least they have our respect. We fight them because they are in the wrong and because they are trying to kill us, and sometimes that means we have to kill them en mass, but we never actually slaughter them.”
“That word, slaughter, has several meanings for us. One is simply a lot of killing, and is not dishonorable. Another is killing when combat has ceased, which is what happened on Orica. The Cajdital never stop fighting. They keep building more weapons and troops constantly, so there is never a moment when you can say it’s over. You either kill them when you can or they build up their numbers and come back at you again. It’s never over with them, which is probably why none of them accept surrender.”
“It is forever war with them, and will continue to be so until they have wiped us our or they are wiped out…or until we can find another alternative, which we’re continuously searching for. That’s the difference between the Cajdital and others. So long as the fight continues they are a threat, and they will not stop until they’ve won. So either we destroy them or we take away their ability to fight.”
Paul left it at that, though he could have gone on further, but he didn’t want to muddy the intellectual waters any more. The Hycre he was speaking to, whose name he hadn’t even gotten, didn’t respond immediately, but took a few seconds to either think through what Paul had said or to consider its response.
I STAND CORRECTED. YOU ARE NOT HYPOCRITICAL, THOUGH IT IS A NARROW LINE BETWEEN THE TWO POINTS.
“Details matter.”
DETAILS ARE ALSO IMPORTANT TO AVOID MISUNDERSTANDING. I THINK IT IS VALUABLE FOR BOTH RACES TO DETAIL OUR PHILOSOPHIES. THERE MAY BE CONFLICTS, BUT YOU ARE RIGHT TO WANT TO AVOID UNNECESSARY ONES. MAKE A LIST OF PRINCIPLES BY WHICH YOU OPERATE AND WE SHALL DO THE SAME. THEN WE WILL SEE HOW MUCH WE HAVE IN COMMON FOR A DECLARATION OF WHAT YOU WOULD CALL HONORABLE CONDUCT.
“Acceptable,” Paul said, with the Hycre’s hologram winking out a moment later.
The warship’s Captain stepped over to Paul and lowered his voice. “I didn’t realize we were taking lizards prisoner.”
“A few here and there,” Paul said, rubbing his eyebrow distractedly as he thought. “Looks like I’ve got some writing to do. So long as we’re going to be here a while, unpack a couple of the corvettes and have them take up flanking positions. If our luck gets really bad and the lizards or other bad guys happen to show up I want some quick response assets in place.”
“You think that’s a possibility?”
“I don’t plan for what I think will happen, but what’s physically capable of happening. I also have a long history with the bad luck monkey, and you never know when he’ll jump on your back.”
“Are you worried about the Hycre?” the Captain whispered.
Paul shook his head. “No, I’m not. I just want some flankers.”
“I’ll make it so,” the Captain joked, leaving Paul to sit down and pull up a writing prompt on his command chair.
6
June 10, 2449
Ghanis System (Beta Region)
Ettiana
Captain Erica Sorvela stood on the observation deck of her jumpship’s 32nd cargo bay, monitoring the incoming dropship traffic as she always did. The large artificial plain stretching out before her carried its own subtle wind currents, tussling a few strands of her blonde bangs hanging out from the tight up-do she usually sported, as over 100 Dragon-class dropships were offloading grain cubes directly into the chamber.
Off to her left, the wall stretched into the outer hull of the jumpship, along which were 4 entry points…short tunnels with multiple atmospheric shields to keep the air in and the cold of space out. Off to her right were the cargo crate stacks, being organized and added to by a myriad of cranes reaching down from the ceiling above her. Normally a hangar bay and a cargo bay were two separate facilities, but this jumpship was Harvest-class and designed specifically to carry produce from the Kiritak colonies back to other Star Force worlds, meaning a very limited and specific inventory list.
Knowing ahead of time what the ship would be carrying, the designers decided to maximize internal hull space and combine the landing and storage areas into one multi-tasking facility…or rather 44 such facilities that ran the spine of the jumpship in rows of 11. Each bay had its own external ports, the only ‘windows’ on the ship, but they also had armored hatches that could and would close during travel to make sure the odd bit of space debris didn’t shoot inside one of the gaps and bypass the hull armor.
Bays 1-31 were already loaded, and ‘loaded’ to Sorvela meant full to the point where only 1 dropship could enter. That would make offloading take longer, for the dropships on location would have to ‘eat’ their way into the crate stacks, but it maximized the amount of cargo her ship could carry, and the less jumpship flights necessary the better, for the Kiritak were pouring out the resources now that their colonies had gotten firmly established and were seeing ridiculous growth.
Her jumpship, the H132, had been built in a Kiritak yard with a mix of alien and Human crews in just under 10 months’ time. Star Force had gotten so good at building the massive ships that, coupled with the Kiritak’s insane numbers and work rate, they were pumping them off the line unbelievably fast…limited only in how many resources they had available, now that the Kiritak training programs had caught up with the demand for workers.
It was those resources that Sorvela’s ship was meant to carry, and she knew well how critical they were to the war effort. Sometimes it was foodstuffs, sometimes it was metals…then there would be fabricated components or finished products, many of which were coming out to the Kiritak from factories back in the core region. But what still awed the Captain was the fact that after 6 years on the job, her jumpship had never seen a split cargo. It was always all of the same product, underscoring just how much the Kiritak were producing…and requiring in return.
This current cargo was destined for the Sirius System, all the way back in the core and just a handful of lightyears away from Earth. There it would be split up and sent off to a number of locations, though she knew a great deal of it was being sent to HTC, the new Calavari world, along with a number of other colonies in Alpha Region, which was why Sirius was being used as a way station. The system had several inhabited planets, with Orion as the major population center and distribution hub for the Kiritak supply chain.
And that’s where her farthest supply runs went. Sorvela’s missions didn’t always take her that far, most kept her inside Beta Region, but as the number of Kiritak-created jumpships increased the more veteran Captains were being given the longer routes, leaving the newly minted ones handling the short hops, some of which were only insystem.
Some people would have thought that driving a huge jumpship from point to point was a mundane and simple task…which it was, until something went wrong. The cargos that the massive ships were carrying, such as this foodstuff load that was still being brought up from the planet’s surface after 18 days of continuous dropship ferrying, were so important that Star Force wasn’t going to play games with their fleet and assign lower level personnel to their care. In fact, it had taken Sorvela over 40 years of service aboard other vessels to finally rate a Captain’s slot, and had it not been for the aggressive fleet expansion being forced for the Kiritak annexation, it would have been unlikely for her to have gotten the post in the coming decades.
The amount of foodstuffs her ship was loading up was sufficient to feed a population of 5 billion Humans for a full year if stretched, though they weren’t yet processed. Each of the cargo cubes being brought aboard contained pure grain, most of which had been crushed in order to diminish the wasted airspace between kernels. The inventory for this shipment had 37 different types of grain, with the bulk being wheat, corn, and kepper…the latter of which was a Star Force favorite that didn’t originate on Earth.
Where exactly her shipment would end up Sorvela didn’t know, but she did know that Star Force fed more than just Humans, Calavari, and Kiritas. Before she’d joined the naval division, Erica had worked as a ‘herder’ on one of Star Force’s biological preserves, which they referred to as a ‘sanctuary.’ They weren’t accessible to the public, and because of that most people didn’t know they existed, but Star Force had thousands of them spread across its territory, most of which were in Sol.
Each sanctuary was a location where less intelligent races were contained and cared for, given that Star Force didn’t allow for individual ownership of ‘pets.’ There were sanctuaries for dogs, cats, horses, cows, birds, squirrels, and almost every other ‘animal’ that used to either be owned as pets, used as food, or lived in the wild. Star Force principle held that you didn’t stomp out one race in favor of another, nor did you let one starve to death. Survival of the fittest was not a philosophy Star Force looked kindly on, so they’d established the sanctuaries as places they could send ‘refugees’ whenever they encountered them.
Those refugees required foodstuffs as well, but fortunately Star force was smart about how many mouths they had to feed. Population control was in effect in the sanctuaries, but not in any surgical or damaging way…they simply kept the males separate from the females, and in doing so could control how many offspring were produced, more or less. The purpose of the sanctuaries was to preserve, learn about, and uplift the lesser races…which Sorvela had been involved heavily with on the communication front.
She’d been a dog person from the get go, having grown up in the United States were pets were still permissible. When she learned that Star Force accepted, and in fact wanted, any strays picked up or dogs that people had abandoned for whatever reason, she’d sought out employment with them…only to learn that the dogs in the sanctuaries were not like the ones she’d owned as a child. These could actually speak.
Not English, but Star Force had created a rudimentary language to use with them that had a decent sized vocabulary. Even the refugee dogs being brought in picked up some of it, just by being around the others that had been born and trained in the sanctuary. And when she said training she meant Star Force training, meaning the dogs were going through daily workouts and drills as if they were people.
In the beginning she thought Star Force was overdoing it, giving them more credibility than they deserved…until one day when one of the dogs she was working with grabbed the cuff of her pants in its teeth and pulled her back from a tree as she started to sit down next to it. The dog had pulled so hard she fell down, then it let go, walked around her and looked her in the eye…then spoke the dog word for ‘danger’ and pointed with its paw down into the grass.
When she looked she saw some sharp bits of splintered wood in the grass. That had been her moment of epiphany, with it finally clicking in her mind what Star Force had been telling the public for ages. Different races were at different levels of ability, but all were people. It was then that she’d been able to look the dog in the eyes and see a person there…not a Human, but a person, after which her outlook on society changed drastically.
The ‘animals’ she’d once thought were property and, to be honest, expendable, were people like her who needed things…and the idea of just turning them loose in the wild suddenly didn’t seem so fitting when she imagined it being done to her. How long would she last in the wilderness if she had to fend for herself? What would she eat? What would she wear? Where would she live?
The natural wilderness that had seemed so tranquil and pristine before now looked to her like a nightmare, and she suddenly understood why Star Force had created the sanctuaries. It was to defy the chaos of nature and utterly destroy the concept of the food chain, for all the foodstuffs that both the Humans and the other races ate came from plants and chemical synthesis. No meat was required, for it meant that you had to kill one person to feed another, and that was totally reprehensible within Star Force philosophy.
Realizing just how much her dog herds, and by extension her Human herds, relied on foodstuffs being produced by Star Force, she eventually changed vocations and ventured into the supply chain, ultimately landing in naval cargo transfer. To rise to the rank of Captain she had to branch out into military applications, because Star Force knew, as she now did, that the cargo must flow and continue to flow else billions would suffer and/or die.
Because of that simply fact Sorvela’s mundane cargo transfer responsibilities were among the most important within Star Force. It might be a simple thing to move cargo from one place to another, but it had to happen else tragedy would ensue. Her job was to make sure it didn’t, and it was a duty that she never took lightly, as well as being one that she took great pride and care in.
Which was why she personally observed all of the loading, being directly on hand should a problem arise.
“Captain,” a non-Human voice said from behind her.
Sorvela turned around from the railing and looked down at the Kiritak staring up at her.
“Yes.”
“From Gerardi,” it said, holding up a datapad for her.
“Thank you,” Erica said, taking the device. Only a third of her crew were Human, with the rest being made up of Kiritak, given how many jumpships were being pressed into service. Archon Randy had wanted Beta Region to be as self-sufficient as possible, and to avoid a major personnel drain on the rest of Star Force he had Kiritak manning as many posts related to their resource production colonies as possible, including the cargo transfer to and from.
Fortunately the little buggers were loyal and hardworking, if a bit naïve…though that was probably due to their youth, for most of their race had yet to achieve self-sufficiency despite Star Force’s efforts to provide them with their own version of ambrosia as a boost. Still, every year that passed her Kiritak crewers grew more capable, and she figured she’d just gotten used to having experienced personnel around her, given that none of the young Humans just joining Star Force would be assigned to a starship, no matter what its class.
The days of 20 years olds ruling the world was gone. Now if you weren’t at least 100 you were still considered to be ‘green’ unless your skill level merited otherwise.
The Kiritak crewer hopped off while Erica opened the file on the datapad and saw the inventory list that her Chief Mechanic had compiled upon her request. It wasn’t overly long, but contained 48 types of items and the quantity of which he needed to fully restock the ship’s spare parts stores. Sorvela wanted to get that taken care of before they left the planet, and had put Gerardi through a hurry up assessment of all ship’s systems and replacing worn, if not yet broken, components.
She ran an eye down through the list, seeing most of it was standard equipment with a few exceptions…but nothing that the Kiritak colony depot wouldn’t have on hand. Her jumpship didn’t carry a fleet of its own dropships in order to maximize hangar/cargo space, relying on the local planetary fleets to handle all loading/offloading, but there was one small bay reserved specifically for transit use that contained several ships that belonged to the jumpship. Guessing they would be sufficient to handle the supplies she needed, Sorvela activated her comm earpiece and got her crew moving, arranging for the pilots to head down to the planet in three Falcon-class dropships while she directly contacted the Kiritak colony, all while continuing to oversee the grain loading.
It took another 7 days before the jumpship was full up, during which Sorvela got the spare parts she needed aboard, cataloged, and stocked in the appropriate places. With all final checks made on the cargo she ordered the bay doors shut and hard locked, then the very heavy jumpship eased up out of planetary orbit on its gravity drives, bypassing the hundreds of orbital facilities, many of which were still under construction, and getting to a clear jumpline out to the star, from which Sorvela ordered a microjump starting them on the first leg of their trip all the way back to the Core Systems.
When the jumpship decelerated against the star, it had to reposition around the perimeter to find the exiting jumpline, and while working through that navigational delay the ship’s sensors picked up a fleet coming in on a different jumpline. That wasn’t uncommon, for a lot of jumpships operated in convoys, but as she observed the system map update as the newcomers slowed to speeds where the system tracking network could identify them, she noted with a bit of apprehension that they weren’t Human nor Kiritas ships…nor were they from the Alliance.
“Who are they?” she asked her bridge crew, staring at the holographic map and wondering if she wasn’t going to have to order an emergency microjump elsewhere in the system, but she didn’t let her crew in on those thoughts.
It took a few moments for the crew to pull up a match from the ship’s database, due in part to the fact that only a few of the incoming ships matched a profile they had on file, but eventually they found her their answer.
“Mssot,” one of the crew relayed to her along with the racial profile, which was sent to her command chair’s built-in screen.
Sorvela chewed on the inside of her lip as she watched more ships coming into the system on a wide stagger, with 7 already present and descending closer to the star to make way for the others in order to avoid a collision.
“Are they in our way?”
The navigation officer shook his head in the negative.
“Remain on course,” she ordered, thumbing through their file. They were a race that had little contact with Star Force, but were an associate of the Calavari with their territory sitting within the larger empire, though with the 3D placement of star systems and the immense voids between them, ‘within’ was really a misnomer. Even Star Force had other races ‘within’ its territory in Beta Region, given the cherry-picking of worlds that had taken place.
The diplomatic file read that the Mssot had 3 systems under their control, but they were located multiple jumps away, near to the Nestafar ‘border,’ which meant their presence all the way out in Beta Region was as unusual as Sorvela had though it to be.
She wanted to open a comm channel and ask what they were doing here, though it wasn’t uncommon to have ships passing through Star Force territory enroute to other locations, but she knew others would be handling the inquiry and it wouldn’t do much good to have multiple Star Force personnel contacting the Mssot all at once.
No warning flags arose from system command as her jumpship reached its jumpline, nor was there any news about the Mssot, whose total fleet count rounded out at 22, so despite her curiosity Erica left it alone and ordered the system exit jump after she confirmed with navigation that there were no incoming ship pings on that line.
In the blink of an eye the grain hauler accelerated its extreme mass, red-shifting the camera views behind until they went totally black, as did the aft sensors. Relying on memory coupled with gravitational effects, the system map updated as the jumpship accelerated through the inner, middle, and high zones, eventually cutting its drives somewhere in the outer zone on the edge of the system as the gravity from the star was waned. From there it coasted on its hundreds time lightspeed momentum, nudging aside from the jumpline using conventional thrust engines to ensure no mid jump collisions occurred, while broadcasting a signal ahead to warn others of their approach and position relative to the jumpline.
Sorvela breathed a sigh of relief, now safely underway, and wondered if the Mssot were just passing through or if they had business to conduct with the Kiritak colony.
7
July 21, 2449
Ghanis System
Ettiana
“Anything new?” Randy asked as Eric-9377 met him at the foot of the dropship. The trailblazer had just pulled a quick trip out from Kirit after getting the Archon’s message about the Mssot convoy showing up and asking for help and/or trade, given that they’d just fled the invasion of their territory by the Nestafar.
“I’ve ordered a steady stream of foodstuffs and a touch of fuel distributed to them until you arrived. Their supplies are running low,” the lead Archon in charge of the Kiritak colony on Ettiana noted as the pair started walking out of the spaceport hangar and into the city, enroute to where the Mssot representative for their refugee fleet had been waiting for Randy’s arrival.
“Good call.”
“Yeah, well, I figured you didn’t want them to starve to death before you had a chance to talk with them. They’re not the easiest to understand, but they do speak the trade language. They do not know what happened to the world they fled, but they’re not expecting any survivors. They’re just glad to have gotten out when they did…now they’re nearly out of fuel and supplies after having been turned down by others. I almost granted them sanctuary on the spot, but figured you might get huffy if I went over your head.”
“Only if you made a bad decision,” Randy said as they stepped out of the hangar and into a nearby elevator cab that descended them into the subsurface levels where they eventually would come to a tram station. “Have any more ships arrived?”
“No, and they’re not expecting any more.”
“Any battle recordings?”
“The data is sketchy, but shows a small Nestafar fleet kicking the crap out of their defenses while the convoy ran. It looks like less than 10% of them made it out. The Nestafar were gunning the others down like it was target practice. The Mssot’s tech is low grade with add-ons they’ve purchased from other races, including their gravity drives. A good chunk of that is Calavari tech.”
“Anything more on the relationship there?”
“The Mssot operated their own defense fleet, but were augmented by a treaty with the Calavari. As busted up as they are now, the Mssot were left without support and the Nestafar pounced on them…and others, as far as rumors go. They think they were targeted specifically because of their link to the Calavari, though they admit to never having good relations with the buggers in the first place.”
“What rumors?”
“A lot of nastiness happening in the territories adjacent to the Nestafar/Calavari border. Extremely lawless, now that the two major players are fully occupied elsewhere. We’ve got no verifiable intel on file, but they say more than just the Nestafar are on the prowl, and given how few ships they hit the Mssot with I’m inclined to agree that they’re not the only culprits. My gut says Skarrons.”
Randy cringed. “That’s what I was afraid of. Who else are the Mssot saying were hit?”
“About 20 or so smaller races than them, most of which are one system civilizations that either had ties with the Nestafar or Calavari. The Mssot didn’t encounter any hostiles directly, but on their exodus out here they stopped in at a number of high population systems seeking aid and crossed paths with other refugees from the fighting, which is where the majority of the rumors are coming from. I’d guess that we’re going to have more coming knocking on the door before too long.”
“Did you find out why they came here?” Randy asked as they claimed a tram car for themselves ahead of the Humans and Kiritak waiting in line and sped off through the city’s understructure.
“Closest Star Force system they were aware of. The Critel advised them to come to us after they turned them down.”
“Why am I not surprised,” Randy muttered. The Critel were a friendly, low military, high econ race with territory set below the Hycre and Calavari on the galactic plane, with their systems stretched widely apart from one another. One tendril of the lizard advance was headed in their general direction, but the Hycre had been battling it, and in doing so protecting a region that contained many races that were pinched between the Nestafar and lizards. The only ‘open’ area was Beta Region and further down on the galactic plane that eventually ended with the galactic barrier…a region Star Force had not yet been able to venture to, given its distance.
The Critel were close to the lizards, close to the Nestafar, and were intermixed within the general area the Hycre marked as their territory, but they hadn’t been drawn into the fighting as of yet. They were regular customers at the Star Force interstellar exchanges, both buying and selling goods, as well as diplomatically hob knobbing around and boosting their rep as deal makers and information brokers.
More often than not they’d referred new races to Star Force, most of which turned into advantageous business transactions, but from which the Critel gained influence for the introduction while Star Force did all the leg work. For that they were savvy diplomats, but Randy had gotten tired of them being eager to suggest solutions and extremely reluctant to take part in them, and he wasn’t surprised in the least to hear they’d denied the Mssot help then sent them Star Force’s way.
“I’m surprised they came here,” Eric added. “Rotunna and Brenns are considerably closer.”
Randy shook his head. “They’re newer, so the Critel might not have added them to their maps yet. Ettiana is well established, and with all the visitors you get coming to take a look at what we’re doing here it makes sense.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“I’ve been working on that on the way out here, and we’re got a few options. Depends on what they have to say.”
“Indentured servitude is off the table I assume,” Eric said, referencing one of the offers made by the Mssot, who were desperate to secure some sort of arrangement that would allow them to survive.
“I don’t want Star Force to get a Santa Claus reputation, but we’re not making demands solely for our benefit here. Putting them to work in some fashion would seem better than just having them sitting around getting fat off our generosity.”
“If these are the first of many to come knocking on our door, are we going to have a refugee protocol or program established?”
Randy smiled. “You read my mind.”
“No, my Ikrid hasn’t progressed that far,” the acolyte joked. “I’m just wondering if Star Force is going to turn into the galactic lifeboat when the lizards start rolling over the Alliance and everyone else in the way.”
Randy’s expression blanked. “It could very well go that way.”
“Operation Conduit is still under wraps, I assume?”
“As much as we can control, yes.”
“How long do you think that will last?”
“You mean once they hear we’re harboring the Calavari others will start running to us?”
“Apparently they already are,” Eric pointed out. “The Mssot also referenced the Kiritas and how we absorbed them, asking if that was an option. If an empire as large as the Calavari joins us…”
“I know,” Randy said, already having thought down this road many times. “I know.”
When the pair of Archons got to the part of the city that held an open air park, one that was actually open to the planet’s atmosphere, it was lit up with a splendor of lights hidden amongst the greenery. A scattering of Kiritak milled about with the occasional Human passing through, but otherwise it was empty, and the pair made their way to a pavilion that contained four Human security guards and one cloaked figure that stood a few inches taller than them.
Randy stretched out his Ikrid link and connected to its mind, getting an altogether new feel. The complexity wasn’t as high as some of the other races he’d come into contact with, but this one felt more alien than the rest. At first he had trouble making anything out of the incoherent mess, but as he’d done before he held the link and tried to match up pieces of what he knew and what the newcomer was familiar with.
The Nestafar were the common ground that allowed him to break through, after which he had an easier time of sorting out its mental ‘language,’ though he did gently land a hand on Eric’s shoulder to slow their pace, giving him more time to poke around in its head before they got to the pavilion.
When they did the cloaked figure turned to face them underneath a series of dull lights that provided ample illumination from the underside of the pavilion roof without glaring. Randy saw the oily black skin scales referenced in the racial file Star Force had, but they were even more intimidating in person, bracketing its single red eye in the center of its head, underneath which was a mouth slit, but no nose. Beyond that he could see nothing, for the cloak hid the rest.
That was until Randy flicked on his Pefbar, expanding his psionic energy field out to penetrate the cloth and the alien. Underneath the robes that gave the appearance of a humanoid figure was a hunched over mass of collapsed limbs tucked inside to conceal its true size and shape.
“Hello again, Mssot,” Eric said in greeting, using their race’s name in lieu of a personal one that their representative had never given.
“Greetings and thanks,” the alien offered back in the trade language, its robes swaying in the air a couple inches short of touching the ground.
“This is our leader,” the Archon said, gesturing with his hand towards Randy as the acolyte walked aside and took a seat on the railing that encircled the small pavilion, extricating himself from the conversation.
“Speak your request,” Randy said bluntly, which surprised Eric a bit by the abruptness of his opening words.
“I represent the few remaining survivors of our race, who are now living in orbit amongst a small fleet of cargo ships. We are short on supplies and have no worlds to return to. We seek any aid you can provide, and thank you for that which you have already given us. We also seek trade, if we have anything you wish to possess, including our services in any form you shall name. We seek sanctuary if you are willing to offer it, or a business arrangement. Our future is bleak with few options for survival, so we offer you many in the hope that we can be of value to you, and in that value we survive and preserve our race.”
“So I have heard,” Randy said, throwing a glance towards Eric. “First, tell me why you are concealing yourself.”
The Mssot did not speak, but stared back at Randy for several seconds.
“Most races’ structures are not built for us. We find it best to interact with others in this form. Have you met other Mssot?”
“No, but I know how constricted you are right now. Feel free to assume your normal form here.”
“I cannot. My clothing is not of the proper shape.”
“Tell me of the atmosphere you breathe,” Randy said, pressing on and again startling the alien with the question.
“You know much of us. How is this possible?”
“I know little about you,” Randy countered, “which is why I am asking. You do not respire through your mouth as we do.”
“We do not,” the Mssot confirmed. “Your atmosphere is poison to us. The oxygen you breathe would be the death of us with only a few breaths.”
“What do you breathe then?”
“Nitrogen.”
“Are you wearing a filter or a contained supply?”
“It is both. We can exist in your atmosphere indefinitely without resupply.”
“What skills do you have that we might find valuable?” Randy asked, mentally probing the alien simultaneously, with Eric doing the same. The trailblazer could just barely detect the other’s Ikrid connection to the Mssot, but figured the same wasn’t true in reverse.
“We are few in number, but large in knowledge. The Calavari engaged us for our biological analysis.”
“Analysis of what?”
“Detections of genetic anomalies, corrections, and enhancements of themselves, their biotech, and their foodstuff production.”
“They had a disease that you cured for them?” Randy asked, pulling the memory from the other’s mind.
“I mean no offense, but I cannot answer that question.”
“You’ve made modifications to your own genetics, I assume?”
“We have.”
“And created bioweapons?”
“Yes, and we can do the same for you if you wish. Our knowledge of the code of life is extensive and applicable to most races we have encountered in some form or another.”
Randy pulled up a lot of memories when the Mssot referenced the bioweapon research, and while it was a mess of alien thoughts, he was able to pull several key pieces out of what was coming together to be an interesting puzzle.
“The Nestafar have a grudge with you because you helped the Calavari thwart the bioweapon they employed against them, and now that the military protection they offered in return isn’t available, the Nestafar have exacted their revenge.”
“You know far more than you should. How?”
“The Calavari are our allies, and we are engaging the Nestafar on their behalf in several systems. You will betray no trust by answering my questions, and I need honest answers if I am going to be able to offer your race any…options.”
The Mssot bristled, though Randy only noticed through the mental link, because its body didn’t so much as twitch. It didn’t want to break its race’s word to the Calavari, but was heavily conflicted with preserving the lives of those it was entrusted to negotiate for.
“What do you wish to know that you have not already learned from the Calavari?”
“What restrictions did they place on you in the terms of your defense pact?”
“That we only engage in defensive alterations. They believed offensive assaults on a biological front were an unacceptable battlefield practice. We did not concur, but obliged their philosophy, as we will for you on whatever terms you see fit.”
Randy knew what that meant, even without the psionics…but the images that came with the offer thoroughly disgusted him. Images of past projects and ‘research.’
“Star Force concurs with the Calavari. We have no use for your bioweapons, but your genetic knowledge may be of some limited use if it is greater than our own. What other value can the Mssot provide?”
“We will aid you in whatever way you deem necessary, so I shall ask you, humbly, what is it that you require?”
“Honesty,” Randy said with considerably more iron in his voice. “You are unscrupulous bastards who tried to play one power off against another and got burned for it. Most of your biotech is unethical, as is your civilization…which is now almost entirely destroyed, or so you fear. You ran away from the fight before you could see its conclusion.”
“You’ve tried to bargain,” Randy continued, “and cajole your former associates for mercy now that you’re on the edge of destruction, and knowing your reputation they refused. Others weren’t in a position to help, while most simply chose not to do so, seeing that you had little to offer them in return other than weapons that obviously didn’t save you from the Nestafar.”
“So what you’ve really come to me for is a last chance, banking on our good will to save your despicable race so you can regrow and one day take back the worlds you’ve just lost or start over on a new one…where you will pick right up on your bad habits that you’re willing to suppress for now in order to ingratiate yourselves with whomever you need in order to survive.”
“I will not facilitate your request,” Randy said before the Mssot could speak in protest, for he could feel the diplomatic cunning of the alien working in overdrive to try and stay on top of the conversation by anticipating where Randy was going and attempting to steer him towards an area of need or greed that they could exploit. “But I will offer you sanctuary…at a price.”
The Mssot completely ignored the insults, considering them to be the Human’s version of a negotiation tactic. “What is it that you want?”
“Your younglings.”
8
The Mssot visibly shifted, suddenly growing a few inches in height beneath its robe, and Randy could sense the first strains of anger from the alien, mixed with cold calculation.
“Explain.”
“I’ll make it very simple. If you want to continue living, you will do so as our slaves.”
Eric turned his head and threw Randy a confused glance, but he didn’t say anything, vocally or telepathically, waiting to see where the trailblazer was going with this.
“What do you require of your slaves?” the Mssot asked, making it clear that such an option was on the table.
“Your people will be sustained and confined to a single location where you will live out the rest of your lives away from harm and without the ability to harm anyone else. You will survive, but your civilization will not. You will be absorbed into our empire and assist us with projects of our choosing, while operating none of your own. Your freedom will be gone, but your lives will continue…and your offspring will be delivered to us to do with as we please.”
“Your numbers will dwindle over time,” Randy continued, and Eric was surprised by the cold honesty in his words, “and your civilization will die even as you continue to produce more offspring for us. That is the bargain we offer. You can choose to live as slaves or leave this system and take your chances elsewhere, which you know will lead to your imminent deaths.”
“You ask much of us,” the Mssot said slowly, with the anger that had been spilling out before now thoroughly clamped down, “but your terms are not wholly unacceptable, though they will require clarification on some points.”
“Ask,” Randy prompted, his demeanor still icy.
“Where will we be situated?”
“In a single facility,” the trailblazer said, picking up on some of the Mssot’s unspoken questions, “that will be inhabited exclusively by you. You will be confined to it and supplied with resources by us. You will be our permanent guests, and you will own nothing of your own.”
“Our ships?”
“Once you arrive at the location you will abandon them and all possessions. You will have no autonomy. You will be a subsection of our empire.”
“We will not be of use to you without our technology,” the Mssot warned.
“We’ll determine that, and give you what is required. You’ve done a lot of unethical research in the past and that will not be permitted with us. All projects will require approval by us, and you will not be cleared for any work of your own. You will be our slaves with no autonomy whatsoever,” the Archon reiterated.
“And our offspring?”
“You will clear their genomes of any genetic memories and turn them over to us. We will move them to a separate facility and that will be the last you ever see of them. What we plan to do with them is our own concern. You will have no further contact with them after handover, and handover will occur immediately after they are developed enough to travel.”
“What numbers do you require?”
“Nothing unreasonable, but a steady supply. How does your race reproduce?”
“Asexual external egg production, one per cycle.”
“Then we will require the eggs before they hatch. You will not be allowed to keep any, all must go to us.”
“Do you wish the young for a specific purpose, or simply to deny us a future?”
Randy’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he could sense just a hint of the anger returning in the Mssot. “You don’t know if any more of your race survived the Nestafar attack, so it’s possible that you are the last. Had we met under different circumstances it probably would have resulted in us killing you for your misdeeds…but you come to us as refugees, and despite your past history we choose not to turn you away, but we will not allow that history to continue. We will preserve your race in our own fashion, but your dishonorable culture must die, and I do not trust you or those with you to change your ways, thus you will be restricted and unable to repeat the past.”
“So you seek to teach our offspring what you think we cannot be taught?”
“Yes…which is why all genetic memory you’ve added has to be undone, so they don’t carry with them the taint of your civilization.”
“Our gain in this proposal is obvious, but yours is dubious. If you do not wish us to use our knowledge to create weapons, then what projects of value do you seek from us in compensation?”
“Our own biologists are quite advanced, but you have knowledge that is different from ours. You will teach us what you know and we will add it to our own. You will also provide information on every race you’ve encountered, a list of historical events you’ve been part of or witnessed, and be used as analysts when we encounter bioweapons or other types of interesting little puzzles created by others. You will do our bidding, in seclusion, for the remainder of your lives.”
The Mssot’s single eye closed its black lid and held it shut for a moment, and Randy could sense it coming to a decision. When it opened again the level of deviousness surged forth and the trailblazer could tell it had other plans than meekly fading away from galactic events.
“Your terms are plausible, but I must confer with others before official supplication can be enacted.”
“Take your time,” Randy offered. “We’re in no rush.”
“As you know we are. With permission I would like to return to orbit as soon as possible. Matters of this importance must be negotiated in person.”
The Archon looked to one of the nearby guards. “Take him back to the spaceport, directly, and allow him to board his dropship. He goes nowhere else.”
The Human security guard nodded and gestured to the Mssot who walked off with the four guards, leaving the two Archons behind in the park as a gentle wind began to drift down over the barrier walls and filter its way in through the tree leaves.
What was that about? Eric asked telepathically as Randy sat down on the railing beside him as they watched the cloaked Mssot and guards walk off.
A bit of theatrical negotiation.
I thought we weren’t in the slave owning business.
Usually no, but these guys are as slippery and amoral as they come. Can you think of a better way to keep them contained?
Mind letting me in on what you know. I wasn’t able to pull any memories from him, just emotions.
They’re bad guys, Randy summed up pithily.
So…we just shoot them, right?
It’s not your fault. These guys appear benign enough, and it’s part of their cover, but I’ve had enough experience reading non-Human minds to pick this one apart. Their civilization is pretty much a mad scientist’s dream. Lots of biotech wrapped up in their ships, which are partially sentient. We’ll have a look, but I’m not sure even the V’kit’no’sat could undo their machinations. If the Mssot refuse our offer and go on their merry way we’re taking them captive and putting an end to their misery. I didn’t get a lot of information, but what they’ve got going is akin to Captain Keyes as a Flood bulkhead.
Eric swallowed hard, his ire rising. Now I’m really glad I called you in. What’s the angle with the younglings?
Exactly what I told our friend…we’re destroying their civilization while preserving their race.
Why?
What would you suggest?
Well, aside from shooting them, keep them locked up and unable to creep about like you said. I just don’t get the ‘rebuild the bad guys’ civilization.’
Randy sighed. Something the trailblazers have been discussing for a long time now. We kind of have a pet peeve about writing off an entire race. It’d be like the Calavari killing us because of what The Word has done.
Still not seeing it. We’re not killing the Mssot, just locking them away in a resort somewhere…by the way, where were you thinking?
You said there were about 4 million of them?
Yes.
We’ll build a station in orbit of Bolo, Randy said, referencing a world in Beta Region that Star Force was beginning construction on as an inter-racial commerce world that would be populated by entrepreneurs and settlers from other races, but that would have no connection with their governments.
I thought you wanted them isolated?
They will be. There aren’t any windows for them to wave out of.
A comfortable prison in plain sight?
Not a prison, a residential habitat. They’ll have contact with each other, no isolation protocols for the individuals.
I guess if we have security nearby already that’s not hard to pull off, Eric conceded. What’s the up side for us…other than getting them off the galactic streets?
Not much.
Side project?
Randy turned to look at his fellow Archon. We don’t like having to kill the lizards…not all of them, anyway.
That’s why you threw out the comment about the Mssot removing the genetic memory?
No, I said that because he was thinking about using that as a tactic to circumvent our control.
Oh…how long does it take to get to Professor Xavier level anyway?
I’m not there yet, but the more practice you have the better, and you can’t train for this by going to a sanctum. It has to be field work for the most part, and I’ve been dealing with the Kiritas up close for a long time.
So this is a lizard prototype reeducation project?
No, the lizards are born with full genetic memory. We can’t take their young and turn them to the lightside, unfortunately.
So then why are we doing this?
Because we’re the good guys…and amongst our many enemies are compromising situations. One being us having to kill every single individual to defeat an opponent. In the middle of a firefight fine, but when we have time to think and plan we want options, and when we’re faced with the lizards and not being able to find any it’s…unacceptable. Here we’ve got Mssot that are just as bad, but we’ve got a chance to wipe them out without wiping them out.
You did the same thing with the Kiritas.
Randy tipped his head and frowned uncommitally. In a way, yes.
I know we’re rescuing the Calavari and integrating them into Star Force, and have already absorbed the Kiritas, but this doesn’t fit the mold.
No, it’s not the same. This is going to be a lot of work with little gain, but we’re still going through with it. One thing I hate above all else is having the situation force someone into becoming a bad guy. Corruption through environment. It’s real, but a lie at the same time. If you have a switch you have to hold open to keep a lethal injection from going into a person, you stay put and keep your hand on the switch. But what if there’s a countdown clock on the other side of the room next to another switch, and if you don’t flip it 5 people will be ejected into space when the countdown expires. What do you do?
Eric’s mind flipped through the scenario in a few tenths of a second before he found a solution.
Tie the switch open and go flip the other one.
That’s what we do…we find other options. But what if we can’t find one in time? Do you kill the one to save the five, or do you protect the one you’re entrusted with and pass up the opportunity to save the others?
Neither is acceptable.
Let’s change it a bit…take out the second switch and the five people and put in a table with food and water. How long do you stay on the switch?
Meaning that if you don’t move you’ll eventually die of starvation or dehydration?
Exactly.
Eric blew out a breath, thinking. I guess you’d buy what time you could, but if you let yourself die your hand will come off the switch and both of you will end up dead…so you’d have to let go at some point before that.
And always wonder what would have happened if you had just held on a few minutes longer.
Bad situation, but it wouldn’t corrupt me.
But it does take away your choices. You’ve got someone else pulling your strings and forcing you into a choice not of your own making. As Archons we don’t like to believe in a no-win scenario where we’d have to turn to the darkside…because there isn’t one. You can’t force someone to turn evil, but you can really screw with their head and heart.
Eric considered that, even if the concept wasn’t entirely new to him.
You want us to be the guy that comes in and flips the second switch, taking away the bad vs. bad choice?
Not all enemies are people. Some are ideas, some are circumstances. All need to be fought.
So saving the Mssot younglings is you sticking it to the darkside?
Taking a corrupt race and showing that it can be saved is the point. The enemy is the culture, not the individuals…at least not until they buy into it, and even then some of them can have their eyes opened.
And where do the Mssot land?
Randy frowned heavily. While it’s theoretically possible that they could change their ways, I’m not betting any credits on it. That one was evil, and I’m guessing the others are too, but on the off chance that one of them up on those ships isn’t, he’ll still be alive since we’re not just blowing them out of orbit…which I do have an urge to do, by the way.
So how long do I have to keep them in orbit?
Good question…I’ll have to get back to you on that one.
And if any more wayward refugees show up, what’s my response supposed to be?
Randy smirked. I don’t think you’ll be bothered with this on a regular basis, but we are working on a long term plan.
We being the trailblazers?
Yep.
Where does Davis stand on all this?
He’s onboard, but he really lets us handle all inter-racial relations, given that it’s military based. He’s got his hands full with Human-only worlds.
Did you even ask him about Operation Conduit?
It was run by him before we implemented it, why?
Just not entirely clear where his influence ends. Annexing other races seems more than a military thing.
We’re a team that are used to working with each other, Randy explained. Same way you’re familiar with the other Star Fox Archons. Work far enough down the chain and you’ll run into adepts who’ll ask the same question of you regarding how the Clan functions and who’s really in charge after me. What would you say?
That you’re a tyrannical jerk who controls everything, Eric joked. I get your point. Too bad I wasn’t born a few years earlier.
You think that’s all of it?
Meaning what?
You think being a trailblazer is just about being the first class? I should punish myself for not schooling you foxes better.
You really think all 100 of you are the strongest by sheer luck?
Because we’re better.
But what are the odds that the best Archons would all be the first ones?
Never really thought about that, we just are.
And maybe if I’d been there I would have picked up a few things from training alongside you guys. That’s what I’m saying.
Sounds like whining to me…and besides, it’s 101 now.
“What?” Eric asked out loud.
“You heard me. There’s 101 of us.”
“How is that possible…unless you’re counting Vermaire or Davis or someone?”
“They’re not Archons.”
“Who’s the new guy then?”
“Someone who can kick my ass.”
Eric thought for a moment, knowing that only the other trailblazers were high enough ranking rangers to best him…save for one.
“The Queen of Diamonds?” Eric asked, using Kara’s nickname.
“Yep.”
“But she cheated,” he complained.
“One thing you need to know about us is that we value results, not excuses.”
“Shut up and train…got it.”
“You read my mind,” Randy said, hopping off the railing with Eric following suit. “Need something?”
Eric thought he was talking to him, but then followed his eye line to a Kiritak that was standing on the other side of the bushes beyond the railing they’d just been sitting on.
“Are you the Randy?” it asked, shuffling its feet.
“I am.”
The shorter alien smiled widely. “I apologize for interrupting, I was merely curious.”
“Not a problem,” Randy said, clapping Eric on the elbow to get him to walk beside him as he left the pavilion.
Rock stars too, Eric added.
Like you aren’t? Everyone on the planet knows who you are.
I don’t get reactions like that.
You’re not the savior of their race.
Exactly my point.
They know you better than the other trailblazers, Randy pointed out.
Damn…you got me there.
Usually do, the Clan Star Fox leader reminded him as they crossed onto a park path that would lead to the exit into the city. Randy would stay groundside for the next few days, with the Mssot returning after 3 with their answer…a desperate and categorical yes.
9
January 1, 2450
Solar System
Pluto
Sander Rennold had just woken up from a good night’s sleep and hopped over to the nearby track for a ‘wake up’ mile before showering and pulling on his red Star Force logistics division uniform, then sitting down for a bowl of cereal in his quarters while he watched the news feeds. He opened a small container of supplement that had been designed to simulate milk and poured the vitamin rich white liquid onto his crunchy cereal, starting a mental countdown for how long he had to eat it before it got soggy.
As was per his year-old routine, Sander would have some 35 minutes to eat and catch up with what was happening across Star Force’s interstellar empire before he reported for work and got caught up on what was happening on Pluto, as far as commerce and cargo shipments were concerned. He’d been working as a senior logistics administrator on the planet for a year now, with their collective responsibility being to ensure that all Star Force colonies on the planet had what they needed in order to survive.
The Clan holdings were outside his domain, but it was up to him to keep tabs on the three national territories on the planet and to make sure they didn’t accidentally starve to death. The Aussies took care of their affairs well, but the smaller Terran Hegemony and Ipexion nations, both founded off Earth, were always operating on the edge of sufficiency. They relied on some 72% of their resources from imports, while Star Force colonies on Pluto operated on an average of 3%, with stockpiles to sustain them for a considerable amount of time should commerce break down.
The goal of any logistical operation was to get that number down to 0%, making a colony truly self-sufficient. That didn’t include luxuries, just the basics. Things like entertainment and décor weren’t a logistical concern, though the division did facilitate their transfer. Most of those items were sold in stores not of Star Force ownership, but they still had to transfer through the transit network and enter through the same spaceports, making them an unimportant, but ever-present piece of commerce to track.
Sander’s main concern were things like oxygen supply, foodstuffs, water, power supply, construction materials, and ensuring that the factories kept running smoothly, producing all the parts and products that Star Force required, most of which were built out of raw materials harvested locally…which usually meant mining or recycling efforts.
There were some things that Pluto didn’t have, like Corovon, that had to be imported, but through stockpiles and recycling efforts the planet’s need for regular shipments was minimal…so far as maintaining the status quo was concerned. Securing the materials to expand a colony was another matter entirely, and with Star Force constantly growing there was a lot of resources being shipped in, along with several locally produced specialties being shipped out.
Most people considered such concerns as background work and cited it as boring, but Sander knew that it was the lifeblood of any civilization and one that Star Force heavily emphasized. It had taken him some 42 years of hard work to rise this far up the ranks, but he had only just now reached tier 6 within the corporation, which oddly enough meant that he no longer received any pay. That he actually took as a good sign, indicating that he was now part of the Star Force ‘family’ rather than just being an employee who would one day leave to pursue other work or retirement.
And therein lay the problem. Being a level 6 now granted him greater autonomy within the corporation, and with it came questions that he hadn’t been in a position to face before. Up until now his duties had been straightforward and he didn’t have to think about doing anything other than what he was told, but now that wasn’t the case.
As Sander crunched another spoonful of cereal he watched a news vid about a Word rally on Mars, in one of the Brazilian cities, that was espousing their belief that Star Force’s code of conduct was interfering with their natural rights as Humans. He knew it wasn’t really The Word, but their overt civilian followers. The actual organization was secretive, but the societal push that was going on had seemed to take on a life of its own.
No such rallies occurred in Star Force colonies, for the simple reason that public demonstrations weren’t permitted. Public expression was accomplished through media, not by blocking transit ways and disrupting passerbys. And with media, if you didn’t want to hear what someone had to say it was your choice, for you could just change to another channel or watch a different vid. The ‘in your face’ public pressure that nations like Brazil still allowed was a no-go with Star Force, and most of the citizenry that lived on Star Force worlds appreciated the lower angst.
That hadn’t stopped The Word movement from getting their propaganda out, and for some reason Star Force didn’t try to censor it. At first Sander hadn’t understood that tactic, thinking they should have been opposing their enemy’s interference, but ever since Director Davis had made his public announcement concerning The Word, Star Force had taken a very open approach which Sander now appreciated. Let The Word have their say, then utterly tear it apart with logic and reason…for those that would listen, anyway.
The people he was seeing on the news vid did not fall into that category. Whether they believed in what The Word stood for or not, they were using the movement as an opportunity to do things they otherwise would not have been permitted to do, whether it be publically misbehaving and not getting punished for it, or by slandering those they had grudges with by lumping them in with what parts of the public were declaring to be the ‘evil empire’ that was Star Force.
The Word itself knew better than to take that approach, for Star Force did so much good that it was impossible to truly paint them as the enemy, save for with those in society that were weak in the logic department…which usually focused on the young. That was a real problem in Star Force colonies, for proportionally speaking the 15-30 year olds made up only a sliver of the population, given that with the physical training emphasis the corporation pressed, its colonies had people living far longer than within other nations.
So it was not a surprise that most of the anti-Star Force movement cropped up there, then tried to work its way in through civilian angles…but so far Davis’s super-nation wasn’t being converted, only annoyed at times. Even the news vid didn’t spend much time on the demonstrations, simply adding them as a footnote to more worthy news, today of which was highlighted by the opening of a new colony in the Barnard System, which was only 6 light years away from Sol.
Sander listened to half the story, which was noting the opportunities for early immigration and the procedures to follow for filing requests, before he finished his bowl and got a head start on the clock as he headed out of his quarters enroute to his office elsewhere in the city.
Halfway there he made a detour, having concluded that he’d given the matter at hand sufficient thought, and headed towards the section of the city that held the Archon sanctum. There weren’t many stationed here, despite the fact that the city/colony housed some 53 million people. Star Force had 6 others of lesser size on Pluto, plus Clans, but given that Pluto was secure territory there wasn’t much need for a large Archon presence.
That said, one couldn’t just walk to the nearest planet, so Star Force kept at least a few Archons everywhere they had a colony, no matter the size. They had their own section of the city, beyond just their exclusive training areas. It was off limits to the public, but Star Force personnel had access, which allowed Sander to pass through one of the automated security checkpoints with his genetic ID in the form of a handprint.
Analyzing the structure of his hand and taking a genetic sample at the same time, it confirmed his identity and lowered the energy field blocking his progress while raising one behind him. When he passed the threshold of the first they switched back, exposing the handprint scanner to the public again.
What had been fairly busy city streets turned into almost empty corridors as he walked through the Archons’ residential areas that held their quarters, most of which were empty. The first person he passed in the hallways was another non-Archon, which he gave a nod to and let pass by, but when he spotted the first white with red stripe uniform he flagged down the man by waving a hand as he jogged up to him.
“I’m sorry,” Sander said, “do you know where I can find Larry?”
“Still doing his morning workout, I think,” Darren-134229 said, stopping next to the logistics officer in the middle of the hall.
“Can you take me to him?”
Darren frowned. “Only Archons are permitted in the sanctum.”
“Can you bring him out to me then? It’s urgent.”
“Is it something I can handle?” the Archon offered.
“I need the highest ranking Archon available,” Sander said apologetically. “To my knowledge that’s Larry.”
Not seeming to take any offense at the slight, Darren tapped his earpiece and cycled through a few options.
“Are you still in the sanctum?” Darren asked the air, pausing for a response that Sander couldn’t hear. “Did you see Larry?...Yeah, I’m guessing he’s not wearing his comm. Can you tell him to meet me at the sanctum entrance, I’ve got a situation he needs to deal with…I’d tell you if I knew…thanks.”
Darren dropped his hand after terminating the call and stared Sander in the eye.
“Follow me.”
He did as told and walked slightly behind the Archon as the man led him to the sanctum’s entrance where another hand scanner was in place next to what looked like chrome blast doors. A few seconds before they stepped up to them the doors opened from inside and a mildly sweat-soaked Archon dressed in an armless shirt and shorts walked out.
“What’s up?” he asked his fellow Archon while glancing towards the red uniformed logistics officer.
Darren turned to him as well. “Go ahead,” he prompted.
“I need you to take me to Earth off the books,” Sander said, realizing this was the point of no return, “and I need you to arrange for me to meet with Director Davis.”
Larry raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with his fellow, yet lower ranking adept. “For what purpose?”
“I’m turning myself in, and I have information that he will want. Information that others will try to stop me from revealing if they become aware of my intent. That’s why I didn’t go to Earth on my own or send the Director a message. You need to take me there directly, before I’m missed.”
“Turn yourself in for what?” Larry said as he microscopically stiffened. He didn’t have psionics yet, but he could tell this man wasn’t one for hyperbole.
Sander let out a light breath. “I’m a member of The Word…and I don’t want to be anymore.”
“He just walked up and surrendered?” David asked Larry after he arrived in the Pluto spaceport some 18 hours later along with Nathan and Quenton, who were now both snooping around the city looking for and prepping for Word threats.
“He used his access to get into the Archon zone then flagged down the first one he saw and asked to talk to me…then he just bluntly stated he was a Word operative and he wanted to be taken to Davis incognito to avoid reprisals.”
“That’s no joke. We’ve seen the lengths they’ll go to to cover their asses,” David said, thinking back to Glasir as they walked up to the same handprint scanner Sander had used to access the Archon zone, with David letting Larry go through first.
“Nothing’s happened yet,” the adept said as the shields cycled him through automatically, registering the ID signature in his armor, “aside from his coworkers wondering why he didn’t show up from work. I took care of that, and everything has been quiet since.”
“How many guards do you have on him?” David asked as he pressed his palm against the flat panel and it flashed his Archon ID number above his fingertips.
“12 Archons, four in and 8 around.”
After that there was a brief period of silence as they rounded the corner ahead and ducked into a stairwell, traveling up three floors before they came to the level that had another fully armored adept standing guard just inside. Larry clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, with the adept giving David a nod of respect as he walked by.
Four doors down the hallway and they came to the empty Archon quarters that they were using to hold him in at David’s request, which the leader of Green Team knew was better than putting him in a security station where The Word would know to look…assuming this wasn’t all some devious plan of theirs. Regardless, David was about to get some answers.
Sander, who was sitting in a lounge chair watching TV surrounded by four more red-armored guards, turned his head as the two men entered…then stood up respectfully when he saw the green trim on David’s white uniform.
“Have a seat,” the level 3 ranger said before the man could utter a word. “I’m not here to take you to Davis, but he has been told of the situation. If you want him to know something, you’ll have to send it through me.”
“What I want from him is his permission to remain in Star Force,” Sander said bluntly, yet gently. “I no longer wish to be part of The Word.”
“So you’ve said,” David noted as he sat down on a stool next to one of the armored adepts, keeping his head above Sander. “Why the change of heart?”
“I’ve learned a lot since being assigned to infiltrate Star Force. Our previous attempts all failed because of the longevity required. You don’t have much turnover, so placing individuals in the Star Force hierarchy was problematic, and confounded by the issue of self-sufficiency. The Word believes it is unnatural and counter to predetermined design…yet the widespread and well documented cases have challenged that assumption.”
“The last theory that I know of was that your self-sufficiency is chemically induced and creates an unnatural state…stronger proponents have suggested brainwashing as a side effect, rending you zombies after a fashion. Those Word operatives that have had more contact with you testify counter to that point, resulting in a philosophical division that The Word was trying to rectify.”
“Now that I’ve become self-sufficient I’ve been exposed to a number of truths that I cannot ignore. The Word is in the wrong, Star Force is in the right. I want to switch sides, and will accept any punishment or demotion you deem necessary, though to date I have not taken any action against Star Force. My mission was to infiltrate, and in order to do that I could have no contact with The Word. My identity is real, as is everything else. The best cover is the truth, and I’ve stuck to it the past 4 decades, becoming a part of Star Force…and now that I am, I no longer want to betray you.”
“How were you going to accomplish that?” David asked, his tone calm and hyper serious.
“The Word infiltrates through cracks created by corruption or forgery. Neither is present within Star Force. Your computer systems are too robust for us to penetrate without notice, most are not even accessible, and your high ranking members are extremely disinclined to turn on you. They aren’t greedy, so we can’t bribe them. They aren’t power hungry, because you give them so much leeway and responsibility as it is that they’ve got their hands full. And most don’t have families for us to use as leverage…and those that do have been wise enough rebuff such threats, which is why so few have been made.”
“None that I am aware of,” David commented.
“No, because that avenue of infiltration was tested and discarded long ago. After which it was determined that personnel would have to be inserted at the lowest levels and work their way up, but they never got very far. The societal dynamic within Star Force is something that The Word cannot fully wrap their minds around, and as a result they don’t know how to mimic it. The people they sent were not deemed worthy of advancement, so no worthwhile plants were feasible.”
“And you’re different how?”
“It was eventually determined that a traditional operative could not be used, thus a new approach had to be taken. I was chosen to be a clean slate, to enter into your ranks, learn your ways, and become one of you rather than trying to mimic you. It may sound like semantics, but it’s an important difference…though you may not understand given that Archons don’t operate in such ways.”
“You’d be surprised the varied work that comes out way,” David said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You scare us…or more precisely them. I no longer fear you, ‘you’ being Archons. The Word does, because it doesn’t understand you nor your source of power. You are secretive, even within Star Force ranks, but working alongside you for so many years I have a better understanding than they do.”
“You haven’t explained it to them yet?”
Sander shook his head. “I haven’t transmitted anything to them, nor been contacted by them for the past 42 years. To do so even once was a possible slip in my cover. I had to be completely clean, which is why I haven’t been in a position to undermine Star Force…until recently. Now that I am, I have chosen not to and turned myself in.”
“Undermine how?” David asked, curious, but with a few ideas of his own.
“Star Force members in the upper tiers couldn’t be corrupted, so The Word needed to put one in who could be. I was supposed to use my position to cover for lower level operatives being inserted and assist them in rising through the ranks. The more plants in place, the more we could let in. I was to be the seed to start the growth of the corruption…but I would not count on my being the only one. That is what I was told at the time, but I could have been lied to, or they could have started others since my insertion. Being out of contact means I have no idea what they’ve done since then.”
“So you’re not an ordinary operative then?” David asked offhand, trying to prick a bit of pride in the man to use as a leverage point to steer the conversation in a direction of his choosing, still under the assumption that this was all some ploy and that he could get the man to an area of uncomfortability that he wouldn’t compromise, thus signaling that his intentions in turning himself in were a ruse.
But to his shock that wasn’t the case, and the man’s blunt honesty caught him off guard.
“Technically I’m not an operative at all. This assignment was deemed too demanding for an operative, because he’d have to adjust to unforeseen factors once on the inside in order to set up an inroad without security or the Archons discovering it and overturning decades of placement work. For that reason an Agent was assigned.”
10
January 8, 2450
Solar System
Earth
Sander walked side by side with David up to the staircase, then the Archon nudged him in the arm to go first, with the former Word Agent climbing up the circular stairs and seeing four people as soon as his eye line rose above the ceiling/floor into the Director’s office in Atlantis. As he climbed the last few curvy stairs he noted that three other Archons were flanking Davis, all of which were acolytes according to their gray uniform stripes.
The Star Force leader, seated behind his desk while the Archons stood on the wings, pointed towards a chair opposite him which Sander promptly sat down on.
“I’ve been reviewing the intelligence you’ve been providing us,” Davis said without preamble, though this was the first time he’d met the man, “and it appears to check out, but The Word has been exceedingly devious and I’m not wholly convinced that this isn’t some type of ploy, so I have a few questions of my own, if you don’t mind?”
“Ask what you like,” Sander prompted, “but I know you’ve already come to the conclusion that I can be trusted, else I wouldn’t have been brought here.”
Davis frowned slightly, but didn’t say anything for a handful of seconds.
“To a point,” he finally added. “You’ve stated that you haven’t compromised Star Force in any way to date, and that you want to remain a part of the corporation, even if it’s on a minimal level. Why now and not 10 years ago?”
“I didn’t have to make the choice until now,” Sander answered honestly. “Becoming part of Star Force was my assignment for The Word, so there was no conflict of interest. Now that I’m in a position to start undermining the personnel structure I either had to carry out my orders and betray Star Force or stay loyal to Star Force and betray The Word. I chose the latter.”
Davis tapped a finger lightly on his clear desktop, but didn’t take his eyes off the man.
“What does the name mean?”
“The Word is an acronym for World Order achieved through Retrograde Dominion. The basic fundamentals of The Word state that Humanity will achieve its golden age by returning to the old ways, supplemented by advancements that don’t encroach on the proper structure of life. That structure must be maintained, protected, and in some cases forced on the populace for their own good, with freedom limited within its confines. Star Force has strayed from the path, as far as The Word is concerned, and must be brought back into line.”
“And the flaw in their logic lies where?”
“Hierarchical structure of life. They believe that some lifeforms are superior to others, and that the higher placed ones can justly lay claim to the lowers for use as they see fit. That order seemed to make sense to me in the beginning, because the notion that everyone is equal is rather absurd, but when I finally understood Star Force’s angle I had an epiphany, and from there on out other things started falling into place and the entire Word philosophy was shown to be nothing more than a highly calculated façade to justify bad behavior.”
“What is Star Force’s angle?”
“You would know better than I, but from my perspective, climbing up through the ranks, Star Force also believes in a hierarchy, but one based on the individual’s skill rather than right of birth. You also state that it is the role of the higher tiers to protect and guide the lowers, as if they were younger brothers, equal in peerdom, if not in ability. That last bit is what I had been lacking, for The Word does uplift many through a myriad of functions, but it does so through destruction and sacrifice, which makes a certain amount of sense when all are intended by nature to expire after a given amount of time. Take away that lie and you see how sacrifice is a core betrayal of the stated purpose. You cannot save the masses by betraying the individual, for the masses are composed of individuals.”
“But you thought at one point it was acceptable to betray the individual?” Davis pressed.
Sander sighed. “I would say it was more ignorance on my part, but yes, academically I accepted that fact, though I never had the occasion to put it into practice.”
“You said,” Davis noted, referencing the long interrogation sessions that Green Team had already put the man through, “that you were never given any Agent duties prior to your insertion into Star Force. How is it that you achieved that rank without any prior experience?”
“Experience doesn’t create an Agent,” Sander said, seemingly at ease with the conversation and his conscience, “its innate skill that has to be developed and honed through field work. Mine was infiltration and breaking down the inner Star Force structure to know where and how to create blind spots to hide operatives and plants, both in the flesh and electronically. There are no apprentice Agents. When we’re assigned we’re in full control, no matter how green we are.”
“You gave us the descriptions of the other 5 Agents you trained with, but no names.”
“For security reasons we use none. I had to retain my name in order for my cover to be legit, but the others never knew who I was, nor I them. I assume our Master did, but he never spoke of it,” Sander said, referencing the man who’d trained the Agents and given them their assignments.
“Our?”
Sander hesitated. “I didn’t say anything earlier because I cannot confirm it, but my suspicion was that the man who trained us was not the leader of The Word. If I had to guess I’d say there were several Masters. Even I don’t know the scope of The Word’s operations, and not just because of my mission. The others weren’t told either, though they may have learned more afterwards as their assignments necessitated. Information is very segmented, and while an Agent has his hands in many affairs, they are all regional, insuring that if one Agent is compromised the damage will only spread so far.”
“We captured an Agent once,” Davis said, offering up a secret that he’d held until now. Publically, the term ‘Agent’ had never been used by Star Force or The Word’s propaganda campaigns. “The Word staged a military raid into one of our security stations in order to kill him. What do you know that’s so valuable to warrant that?”
Sander’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he thought. “Glasir?”
Davis smiled. “Good memory. Yes.”
“We are supposed to kill ourselves prior to capture that we feel we cannot escape. Failure to do so is considered cowardice, and for that reason alone an Agent would be terminated if they had the chance…but no Agent had ever been compromised at the time of my insertion, so it was a theoretical topic. Depending on the Agent, knowledge on his regional structure could compromise large cells, along with others he’d been assigned to previously. Agents don’t rotate around, but when one operation is completed the personnel are deactivated and reassigned…but if they accessed permanent bases in the course of their duties that knowledge would travel with them, exposing more threads for you to follow.”
“Above that,” he continued, “I know The Word…and The Word doesn’t want to be known. Anonymity is its greatest weapon, and for that reason they will try to kill me if they find out that I’ve abandoned their twisted cause. I have no doubt they are following my career, and when they suspect something is wrong they’ll take action. I doubt they have cracked your computer security, but I didn’t want to take the chance that they had and could intercept me before I was able to speak to you, hence the insistence that I be brought to Earth incognito.”
“There has to be something more than that,” Davis pointed out. “Something that you Agents know in particular that is worth exposing themselves to neutralize. We took a lot of prisoners on Glasir and extracted a considerable amount of information from them…information that allowed us to backtrack and shut down several dozen of their operations. I suspect they knew this when they sent their private army to get to the Agent in question, so I ask again…what’s so important to warrant that?”
Sander shrugged. “It could be a number of things. I’ve been out of the loop so long I can’t point to an achilles heel for you to hit…but then again, I don’t know what you don’t know, and it’s possible that there’s something I consider common knowledge and am overlooking that you might see as critical information.”
“Go back to the beginning then,” Davis prompted, getting the feeling that the man wasn’t purposefully trying to hold back information. “What do you remember of the training facility?”
“When I was recruited I was told that I was going someplace not on the map and was delivered into the back of a truck in lower Florida, some small town I can’t remember. From there I had no knowledge of where I was being taken, but the trip lasted a total of 6 hours and 52 minutes. I timed it on my watch. There were also several transfers of the crate I was in, and it included wheeled and anti-grav transit, I could tell that much from the vibrations.”
“When the doors finally opened again I could see no loading dock, just a hallway. When I entered, the facility’s doors closed behind me and I never saw them open again until the day of my assignment. I was taken back by crate to Florida, with a plausible cover story to explain the lost time. The training center had no windows that weren’t artificial, and while it could have been in a sealed building I got the impression that it was underground.”
“Aside from the Master and my fellow Agents I never saw another person. Master handled all of our training and instruction, and it was important to him that we understood why we would be doing what we were doing. He needed us to believe in the cause, and said that if we didn’t we’d never succeed. So rather than indoctrinating us into a set of specific rules and procedures he encouraged us to think outside the box, stating that that was exactly what we’d have to do in the field, because outside the box was the only safe place to hide. Star Force was too good monitoring the box, so we learned to operate outside society’s perceptions and the resource grid.”
“Do Agents have contact with one another, you notwithstanding?”
“No. Our orders come from Master, and any personnel transfers are routed through him as well. We inform him what we need and he transfers it to us, usually before we’re assigned, but on occasion modifications have to be made. Other than that we ‘grow’ our own resources and operatives, so to speak.”
“No one else knows about Master?”
“Only Agents,” Sander confirmed. “And most operatives don’t know about us, we use local handlers as intermediaries.”
“And your knowledge of this is academic, or did Master gives you files to study from actual operations?”
“Purely academic save for the case of failures. Those he gave us full information on so we could learn from their mistakes.”
“Were there any locations included in those files?”
Sander smiled. “Yes there were, though how outdated they are now I have no way of knowing.”
“Such as?” Davis pressed.
“The largest referenced was a production center in Bolivia. It was supplying an Agent’s operation in western Brazil, but so much cargo was being moved that eventually there was a mishap and a shipment got scattered over a roadway. The Word quickly cleaned it up, but the accident and the few tidbits of information that leaked to the press were enough to cause the Brazil operation to close. The lesson we were meant to learn was to keep as much production as possible local rather than drawing on our major industrial facilities.”
“What was the cargo?”
“Machine parts for equipment that was not native to the region, which would have thrown up a red flag to anyone looking for anomalies. Typically large pieces are deconstructed into spare parts, shipped, then reconstructed on site so the size of the cargo is small and easily disguisable.”
“How close could you get us?”
“I can narrow down the location to within a few hundred miles. I had the exact location on the map given to me so I could study the transportation route in order to assess how much cargo had been excessive, but I wasn’t given any information on the facility itself, but judging by the amount coming out it was an impressive setup. It might still be in operation.”
“How did you contact the Master from the field…or rather how were the others supposed to?”
“Codes hidden in public documents, that way no comm link could ever be established.”
“Can you contact him now?”
“I was supposed to if I had set up the proper blinds, but my sudden disappearance from Pluto has probably spoiled that option.”
Davis slowly shook his head. “Not if The Word pays close attention to Star Force operations. We have a tendency to pull people away on spur of the moment projects, particularly the Archons when the need arises. Since you were last publically seen with them we can concoct a story as to where you have been that won’t raise any eyebrows amongst your coworkers.”
“Risky,” Sander warned. “The Word may not know as much about Star Force as you’re giving them credit for.”
“But you think they’ve got enough eyes on Pluto to realize you’ve not reported for work?”
“I don’t assume anything, but I can’t discount the possibility whenever there is public access to a site. I would guess The Word has no eyes in Atlantis, now that you’ve closed it to non-Star Force personnel, unless they’ve been successful with other infiltrations. They were especially keen on establishing some form of electronic surveillance, though didn’t know how to accomplish it, but they’ve had 4 decades to work out a solution.”
“I think it’s worth a shot,” Davis said, glancing up at David. “Thoughts?”
“We’ll need communication coming back from the Master to trace.”
“Not a problem,” Sander said confidently. “In order for me to infiltrate the tainted personnel, I have to know who they are, and as I’ve said, Agents don’t correspond with other Agents.”
“Sounds promising,” David agreed.
“Alright then, Mr. Rennold. We’ll get you back to Pluto and let you start doing what it was The Word always wanted you to do. I’ll give you a secure comm line to this office so you can keep me informed without any middle men, nor extra Archons on planet. Those that are there will be informed of the situation and be ready to assist. This, if you hadn’t already been informed, is Green Team,” Davis said, gesturing to the four Archons standing around him. “They’ll be the ones hunting down any leads you give us, but you won’t be in contact with them directly. It seems The Word is already familiar with their identities, thanks to several previous encounters.”
“Yes, I know. The Colorado facility was one of the failures we were given to study. Which means that his presence,” Sander said, pointing back to David, “on Pluto could raise some suspicion.”
Davis raised an eyebrow as he looked at the ranger.
“Possible, but improbable. We didn’t take public transport, and unless they’ve got operatives on Pluto that happened to bump into us in the city or gain access to ID scanner records, I doubt our presence was noticed.”
“We’re still a go then, if you’re willing?” he said, looking at Sander.
“I am,” he said, hesitating slightly. “Though to be perfectly candid I have to ask…why are you trusting me? I half expected to be stuck in a prison, or at the very minimum be shuttled off to some corner of Star Force’s domain where I couldn’t do any harm if I wanted to. For all you know I’m a very bold plant who’s still carrying out Word orders.”
Davis smiled, glancing at the Archons who didn’t break their stoic demeanor. “It’s not so great a risk as you might think. You see, there’s a great deal about Star Force that you have yet to learn. Now that you’ve reached level 6 you’ve become acquainted with ambrosia I assume?”
“Yes, and I was quite surprised. The Word had suspected some type of drug use…and ironically they weren’t wholly wrong. Though technically the ambrosia isn’t required for self-sufficiency to be achieved.”
“No it’s not, but it helps considerably, as you’ve probably already noticed.”
“I’m only up to a mic every week, but yes I have.”
“You should be higher than that,” Davis commented, weaving a bit off topic.
“The first few hours after ingestion are troublesome. I’m highly agitated, but once it levels off I see the benefits for the next 3 or 4 days, gradually diminishing thereafter.”
A frown from Davis prompted him to type a few commands into his desktop, bringing up personnel records for the corporation and quickly finding Mr. Rennold’s, which included his workout logs. The Director went straight to his running mileage, seeing that it was very light and moderately slow.
“You’ve attained self-sufficiency?”
“I’m 74 years old and I look like I’m 30, so I assume yes.”
Nathan stepped over behind the holographic display to take a glance at the readout and confirmed Davis’s thoughts with a pithy telepathic analysis.
“Your workouts are very shallow,” the Director said. “You’re not pressing very hard for advancement, thus the ambrosia is not having much effect. Your body isn’t craving energy, so when you ingest even a small amount of it you overdose…that is what creates the agitation you mentioned. You need to crank up your workouts slowly until the sensation goes away, or stop using the ambrosia altogether. Its purpose is to allow you to do beefier workouts, and if you’re not trying to become a rocket you shouldn’t be taking rocket fuel.”
“I’ll make an adjustment. I had thought so long as I maintained self-sufficiency greater workouts weren’t required.”
“For self-sufficiency they aren’t, until you’re thrown into a less than ideal situation. If you’re just hovering at or above 100% it’s easy to tick down to 99 and start losing ground. These guys,” Davis said, thumbing his right hand towards the Archons, “couldn’t shake their self-sufficiency in a month if they tried. They’re running up like 110%, so they can take a lot of hits and not even drop below 105. Better to devote the time to building a cushion and not need it than to be a minimalist and get caught off guard.”
“So noted.”
“Now…back to why I’m trusting you,” Davis said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s because I know you’re telling the truth…plain and simple. If I didn’t, there’s no way we would be meeting face to face, despite the medics clearing you of any potential explosiveness.”
Sander frowned. “But how can you know for sure?”
“Ambrosia is one of our secrets,” Davis said, pulling a small, rubbery practice marble out of his pocket and holding it palm up before him, “but it is not the only one.”
“What am I looking at?” Sander asked.
“A tiny ball, nothing more. Catch,” he said, gently arcing it up above head level towards the man…who caught it in his left hand as it came down near eye level.
“Decent reflexes,” Davis commented. “Throw it back.”
Sander mimicked the Director’s toss, wondering what the object lesson was here…then his jaw microscopically dropped as the ball froze halfway through its arc, levitating in midair.
The Agent’s eyes went from the ball to Davis’s face and back again. “What is this?”
“This is me trusting you more than most of my staff,” Davis said, his face taught with concentration as he kept the ball more or less level in between them. “Give me one word as to why you’ve chosen to switch sides.”
Sander thought for a moment, distracted by the floating ball. It could have been anti-grav or magnetically levitated, but his gut told him neither was the case.
“Scruples,” he finally said.
“Scruples,” Davis echoed approvingly. “It’s the sign of a man who can be trusted once all illusion is removed. You will do what’s right because it’s right, and now that you have seen the truth you will never let yourself go back to the lies.”
Davis glanced up at David. “That’s what he told me, and I trust his judgement implicitly. Though your route to us has been an unconventional one, you belong with Star Force, and with your help we may have a chance to end The Word permanently if we can get at their leadership. Provide us a sliver of opportunity and we’ll make it happen, for as you can see, we have abilities that The Word can’t comprehend. That’s us operating outside of their box.”
Sander’s mind was quick, and he made the necessary logical progression in a matter of seconds.
“Telekinesis?”
Davis nodded, slowly transitioning into a smile as he flew the practice sphere back into his palm, then returned it to his pants’ pocket. “Along with other things.”
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1
February 18, 2451
Solar System
Earth
David walked through the tethered crates in the back of the heavy mantis as he watched the countdown clock inside his helmet pass under 30 seconds as he headed for the far end of the gigantic aerial craft. Nowadays most flight traffic was accomplished via dropships, with the mantises having become more or less obsolete…except for on Earth and Corneria. There the atmospheric-only ships had seen numerous design modifications over the centuries, with the ‘heavy’ version that David was walking through being more than 4 times the size of a Dragon-class dropship, the largest version in the Star Force fleet.
Using a combination of wings and anti-grav, the huge haulers were a common sight in Earth’s skies, hauling Star Force cargo and personnel across the planet on a regular basis…so much so that David had chosen this particular flight to hop a ride on, for it was already scheduled to pass over his target, allowing him an unnoticed approach into French airspace.
When the ranger reached the back of the mantis he triggered the primary boarding ramp in the aft end to begin to lower as he grabbed hold of a handle on the wall as a swirl of turbulence forced its way inside the hold and buffeted his green armor around a bit. The cargo pallets were unaffected, and aside from the pilot no one else on the combination passenger/cargo ship noticed the activity as David timed the lowering to within three seconds of the elapse of his HUD’s countdown…with him running off the back and dropping into free fall as a tone sounded, signaling he’d reached his drop zone.
The mantis was traveling at high altitude and considerable speed, giving David some maneuvering options as he fell. Using his arms and legs as maneuvering veins, he angled his way towards the waypoint superimposed on his faceplate that marked his target coordinates in a remote area of the Pyrenees Mountains.
The Archon feathered his jump pack’s controls a bit to adjust his descent into a more lateral approach, gaining a bit more distance while still dropping fast, wanting to get over the target before coming down to ground so he could have a purely vertical attack vector.
His target was a castle that he’d scouted out the exterior of previously, finding it little more than a sturdy stone structure that had been reinforced with great care…including a subsurface barrier wall installed to make tunneling efforts more difficult. Every crack in the exterior had been sealed up, every window likewise secure, and there was a small security presence to keep out unwanted visitors, though this particular region of France had been preserved in an anti-urban fashion, with the large, interconnected cities far away, leaving only a privileged few the anonymity of their private retreats dotted across what little remained of the wilderness.
Thanks to Sander Rennold’s assistance, Green Team had been able to locate the source of the Master’s codes on various public publications, such as fanfiction and photo posting sites, where they found a handler inputting the messages. Using surveillance only, they had backtracked where he was getting his messaged from…which was another handler, who was receiving secure comm signals across a nearly obscure landline that was broken up with a series of short range wireless transmitters that made it very hard to follow, unless you knew where and how to look.
Messages were infrequent, so it took some time to follow the private message system across the French countryside, bouncing from building to building in the cities and tree to tree in the forests until the electronic bread crumb trail had led to the castle. Upon studying it for several weeks, including some up close inspections in the dead of night probing the external security systems, David was relatively sure that the Master was inside, hence his current drop on the castle while Green Team was hitting other Word facilities across the planet in conjunction with Red and Blue teams in one massive surprise attack using the intel and leads Rennold had provided over the past year as he played his part and let Word operatives infiltrate Star Force.
They were being cleaned up today as well, and with luck David and the others would gather enough intel from their raids to fold up the Word altogether, with the most critical mission being his. Bagging the Master was their top priority, and if his reconnaissance was correct, the castle was all but undefended…relying on anonymity as its shield and very atypical of all other Word facilities they’d encountered to date.
Either that or this was a wild goose chase.
David held off on his jump pack’s power right up until the last few hundred meters, decelerating quickly to land in the central courtyard where he pulled his stinger rifle off his armor’s back rack and shot a man and woman in civilian clothes that didn’t even notice his approach until his feet hit the cobblestones.
They dropped hard to the ground as David stretched out his Ikrid sense to maximum range and began picking up the location of nearby minds as he ran towards the guard house. When he got there he felt two inside and disabled them both with a pair of Fornax blasts through the wall before he opened the door and shot them on the ground where they’d fallen out of their chairs. The Archon took a quick glance at the bank of monitors blanketing two walls in the room, seeing that the castle’s denizens were milling about calmly, meaning no alarm had been sounded yet.
He took off across the courtyard and, with the help of his jump pack, leapt up to a second story window on the west wing and punched his way inside before going on a stunning spree, bypassing numerous rooms that his psionics told him were empty and going straight for the personnel. He worked his way around to the south wing, then the east, before finally getting into the much larger north wing that made up most of the castle.
There he burst into a large communal lounge and mowed down some 8 more people, one of whom was in a wheel chair and all of which were unarmed. None of them even had so much as a Word uniform on, and for all intents and purposes seemed to be regular French citizens as David left them where they lay and headed off after the few remaining others, not wanting the Master to have a chance to escape.
David swept the castle twice, then dragged all of the bodies over to the lounge. He used his Pefbar to search the room for monitoring equipment aside from the obvious security camera on the ceiling that he telekinetically disconnected…then he began his Ikrid interrogation one by one as the prisoners slept, still with no alarm or activity to suggest anyone knew he was here. How long that would last he didn’t know, which meant he needed to be quick.
He’d gotten so good at worming his way into people’s minds that he no longer needed them to be awake, though that did help if he wanted to delve deeper. The stun energy in them also interfered a bit, especially if they’d gotten hit in the head, but so long as their mind wasn’t shut down he could still connect to them. Regardless, the more obscure the information was the more difficult it was to access, with him relying on memory threads and surface thoughts for most purposes, though right now he was just pulling personal identity information, seeing who each of these people were.
As he worked through them he began to worry, for none of them worked for The Word. They were just local hires as residential staff to maintain the grounds, and David was beginning to think that The Word had deceived them again with the castle being a gigantic red herring until he got down to the last three people. He pulled the man who’d been in the wheel chair up off the ground where he’d fallen and set his paint-splattered body on one of the numerous couches and put his exposed fingertips against the man’s forehead…immediately sensing a much more structured mind.
It took all of four seconds for him to make a Word connection, then another six to confirm that this was in fact his target…the Master himself.
David let him sleep and pulled a quick check on the last two people, confirming that they too were just local staff and not Word members, meaning the Master was the only one here who didn’t belong…which appropriately made the cover all the more convincing.
“Alright big guy, let’s see what you’ve got around here,” David said, kneeling down behind the couch and coming in at the elderly man’s head from the back, hacking into his nervous system and pressing an armored forearm against his neck to suck the stun energy out and partially wake him up to aid in his memory search.
The Master blinked his eyes open and tried to turn his head, but the Archon held it firm, leaving him to groggily try to get his bearings as David confirmed that there were no weapons or guards on site, other than the two hired from a civilian security agency…which were little more than babysitters to drive off unwanted guests. There was also no alarm system or hidden chambers, only a computer that linked in to the secure Word comm system that allowed him to send messages out to his Agents…and a second system to likewise correspond with the other Masters.
There were 12 of them in total, each with their own operations and facilities. They kept in contact remotely, using numbers instead of names. This one was Master 7, though his real name was Gustave Beland…but more than that David couldn’t get out of his hazy head, so he woke him up the rest of the way and physically held him in place on the couch, which wasn’t very difficult considering his weakened and decrepit state.
“Bonjour?” he asked into the air, but David didn’t answer, nor did he let him turn around enough to see him. He held onto his head tightly and began digging deeper into his thoughts as the haze cleared from his mind…which went straight to his desk drawer when he saw the other bodies lying around.
David got a clear mental image of a small case inside that contained a kill pill, but there was no way he was going to let that fall into his possession.
“Relax and you won’t be harmed.”
“Who are you?” Beland asked, switching to English.
“Star Force,” David said, feeling the spike of fear run through the man…and he hoped he wouldn’t have a heart attack on the spot, though he sensed that Beland was actually hoping that might happen. “Easy fella. You’re not getting away and no one is coming to help you.”
David followed up that assertion, confirming from the Master that there truly was no help coming. His entire operation here relied on secrecy. He was hiding in the open, and now that he’d been discovered the only way out was by getting to his desk and swallowing one of the pills.
“What do you want with me?” he asked, and David could sense that he was going to play innocent, though the man was puzzled why he was being held down on the couch in such a rigid position.
“I know you’re the Master, and I’m here to get you to rat out the rest of The Word’s leadership…along with all your subordinate Agents, if you don’t mind?”
David’s coy honesty came with an unexpected bonus, for when he mentioned leadership the Master’s mind went directly to the other Masters…and the man that led them all, which they referred to as the Primarch.
Five days later he was back in Atlantis while the rest of Green Team was out chasing down more targets that the Master had unwittingly given them. David had been telepathically interrogating him ever since capture, with Star Force techs going over the equipment in the castle ever so carefully and discovering the second, dedicated communications link that went straight to the other Masters.
Even now their locations were being plotted and their apprehensions planned, with the cellular nature of The Word’s structure seeming to insulate them from one another enough that they didn’t notice Master 7 having been captured, given the ongoing communications between them that Star Force was now able to monitor.
Eavesdropping on them and gaining what tidbits of intel they could, Star Force was in a semi-waiting mode while busy sweeping up a growing number of lower level operatives…with David eventually called away from his interrogations for a meeting with Davis along with Red and Blue Teams’ leaders.
He got there second, with them waiting on Andre-399 who walked up the central staircase in Davis’s office and over to the trio, flipping a data chip through the air at the Director who telekinetically dragged it through the air into his palm, then plugged it into a slot on his desk’s rim. A holographic status report on one of their most recent anti-Word missions in South Africa popped up and Davis skimmed through it, finishing with a satisfying nod before shutting it down as Andre sat down next to David and Drake on the other side of the desk.
“We’ve located the Word headquarters,” Davis began. “Thanks to David’s interrogation of the Master and some electronic backtracking, aquatics has confirmed the existence of the Primarch’s base under the seafloor of the Arctic Ocean. We’re assembling a drilling team for a direct assault, but there are also tunnels leading out to what we think are land entrances.”
“Our scanning ships are having to follow the tunnels at close range to work out a map and aren’t finished yet, but we’ve identified 3 leading out from the base with one of them branching off, so at the moment we have 4 potential entrances. Both the tunnels and the base are buried deep in the bedrock beneath the water, which was why we never detected their presence or construction. There’s not so much as a comm relay in the Arctic, everything is, we believe, transitioning through these tunnels.”
“We’re hitting on both fronts?” Drake asked.
Davis nodded. “Once we find the entrances we’ll coordinate the drilling and tunnel teams to hit at the same time.”
“We’ll need an aquatics specialist for the drilling team,” David commented.
“Rikku has already volunteered and is on her way up now,” Davis said, referring to the highest ranked aquatics Archon on Earth.
“What about the other Masters?” Drake asked.
“We’re going to hit them at the same time. The techs say their messaging system is linked to the headquarters as well, so if they send out an alarm the Primarch could be alerted and, potentially, bolt before we can get to him.”
“Same with the Masters,” Andre pointed out.
The Director nodded. “We need them to expose each of their cells, so if they go to ground when we hit the headquarters we’ll miss out on our opportunity, so we have to go after them all simultaneously, and the sooner the better before Master 7 is missed. Yellow Team is going to handle the off Earth leads that we’ve been gathering, while Blue and Red Teams are going after the Masters. Green Team gets the Primarch.”
“We’re going to need more than 10 for that,” David pointed out.
“I know. Pull in whoever you need and coordinate with Rikku. We’ll have to get the drilling team assembled first in order to get them under the ice via water. I don’t want to fly a team up there if there’s a chance of The Word noticing.”
“How close are our cities?” Andre asked.
“300 miles, given or take. About 50 to one of the tunnels,” Davis said, referencing Star Force’s underwater colonies, which now totaled 2 billion in population on Earth alone, though only a handful were located in the Arctic Ocean.
“How long before we get the tunnel locations?” David asked.
“Another 24-48 hours.”
“Are we sure there’s only 12 Masters?” Andre asked.
“Fairly,” David answered. “They appear to be the only ones fully in the know, with the Primarch’s replacement being chosen from amongst them. When that happens he chooses a replacement from his own Agents, elevates them to Master and teaches them everything they need to know, then the new Primarch retreats to their headquarters, which they refer to as Mount Olympus, and never comes out again…same goes for any personnel they send up there.”
“No possibility of leaks,” Drake guessed.
“Exactly. Now it’s possible that there is another layer to The Word, with multiple Primarchs that only know the existence of each other…but I doubt it. The Master we’ve got says this guy is in charge of The Word, and he keeps in contact with the other Masters, so if there were operations taking place that popped up on the news and one of them couldn’t take credit for it…”
“…they’d figure out there were other fish in the pond,” Davis finished.
David nodded. “I’m 95% sure the Primarch is the big dog, but with Mount Olympus never having any of the roaches check out…”
“Have fun,” Drake said with a smirk.
“And take an army,” Andre added.
“We’re on it,” David assured them. “Just make sure you don’t let any of the Masters escape. They know enough to restart The Word from their own cells. We have to get them all, plus the Primarch, in order to decapitate the organization. The Agents aren’t in the loop, dangerous as they are, so we can miss a few of them and still kill The Word, but we have to get all the Masters.”
“Which is why we’re going after them simultaneously,” Davis reminded them. “We know where they are, and they don’t know we know. If we screw this up we’re not likely to get another shot at it for some time, if at all, which is why I’m splitting your teams up. This has to get done and done right the first time, and I don’t trust anyone else. Your teams have experience with The Word, Green Team more than the others, so if they’re going to get tricky you have the best chance of spotting it in the moment.”
“If they’re where they’re supposed to be,” Drake said confidently, “we’ll get them.”
“Ditto,” Andre agreed.
Davis nodded. “Get on it.”
2
February 28, 2451
Solar System
Earth
David stepped off the dropship’s lowered ramp and sunk into the snow nearly a foot, barely able to see the other five dropships that had landed in a circle on one of Canada’s northernmost islands in the middle of a raging snowstorm. It was daylight where they were, but the cloud cover and blowing snow was so thick it appeared dim lighted, with only the interior illumination from the dropships visible in the near distance as they too lowered their ramps and disgorged some 32 Archons in total.
David trudged out into the snow, feeling a chill sink into his armor, but one that he quickly dissipated with a touch of Rensiek heat produced throughout his body as he activated a waypoint for the coordinates that his team had been given for the tunnel endpoint he’d assigned himself to. The aquatics scanning track had led one of the tunnel spurs directly to this island and had calculated its upward trajectory to reach the surface somewhere near where they had landed, though the water craft obviously couldn’t track the tunnel once it crossed over onto land.
The island was a large one, so the best they could do was narrow down the area, which they’d pinpointed to within a 500 meter radius…which David thought was pretty damn good, though satellite reconnaissance showed no structures or topography in the area, just a flat, snow covered mass of land surrounded by ice-locked ocean.
The other members of Green Team weren’t with him. Jet and Nathan had gone with the aquatics team, while the other 7 members were each heading up their own tunnel team, given that aquatics had found a total of 8 tunnels spurs. David wanted to hit them all simultaneously as the drilling team began to chew its way down towards the base. That way The Word wouldn’t have any escape routes, plus he didn’t know what kind of tunnel defenses they might have.
He’d brought along some reconnaissance drones to probe for any booby traps, but first things first…which meant finding the damn tunnel entrance underneath all this snow and ice.
The waypoint marked a position some 700 meters to the north, so David started walking across the middle of the dropship formation and cutting underneath one of their long wings, getting a momentary shield against the thick falling snow that was obscuring his view of the others, though his HUD was able to keep track of their transponder signals just fine and give him position placements for them all.
Those closest to him were visible in their silver acolyte armor, with him being the only ranger amongst the group and no adepts. He’d pulled as many high level Archons as he could get from both Earth and the rest of the star system, giving him a potent, yet sizeable force to assault whatever defenses The Word may or may not have at their base. They were going into this blind, for the Master they’d taken had only heard about the facility while never having been there, nor having a hand in its construction. Those secrets, it seemed, belong to the Primarch alone.
“Everyone form on me,” he ordered over the comm. “Lateral line with spacing. We walk north towards the waypoint, report anything on or under the snow.”
The ID tags on his battlemap began to move his direction, so David slowly began walking out from under the Dragon’s wing and away from the dropships, which he’d brought along some Regulars to stand guard over. He commed them for a quick check, then turned on his Pefbar and focused it down into the snow and ground beneath, looking for any signs of the tunnel exit as he walked forward.
David got a brief headache as he suddenly was able to see every single falling snowflake in crystal clarity…but then his mind adjusted to the overload of data and he was able to ignore it as he focused on the ground, seeing his team’s signals beginning to stretch out on both his left and right into a shallow ‘V’ that gradually straightened into a flat line as they all trudged their way forward through the thick snow.
Below the recent snow was a thicker, denser pack that supported their weight…and below that was a sheet of ice covering the dirt. In some places David could see deep enough to encounter the bedrock, but if there was a tunnel exit nearby he shouldn’t have to look that deep, for The Word would need access through the dirt, so whatever they’d built here had to be shallow.
And whatever they’d built here either had to have its own vehicles or arrange for a pickup, because there were no roads nor any signs of civilization this far north, which made David wary about what they were about to butt heads with.
“Got something,” Harry-8334 reported.
David glanced at his position on the battlemap, for he couldn’t see more than two men down either side with the blowing snow obscuring his vision and now covering most of his own green armor.
“What do you see?”
“Subsurface structure buried in the snow. Nothing up top though.”
“Everyone, rendezvous at Harry’s position and give me a perimeter scan,” he said, heading his way. “And watch out for concealed turrets.”
David accelerated up into as much of a run as he could manage with his feet sinking into the snow up to his knees, and got over to Harry just after his own Pefbar penetrated down to the squarish vertical rectangle that the acolyte had discovered.
“What do you make of it?” Harry asked, knowing the ranger’s psionic skills were well beyond his own.
“I can see the tunnel beneath it. It dead ends here,” he said, trying to get as much information out of his senses as he could. “Nobody’s down there that I can detect.”
David set up three new waypoints heading north from his position along the length of the fairly deep tunnel that he just saw eeking off in that direction.
“I need psionic sweeps at and around these points. Mechanisms and minds.”
“On it,” one of the acolytes responded, with several more joining him as their dots on the battlemap repositioned.
“It looks like a lift shaft,” Harry commented. “But it looks incomplete, like they dug and built it here all the way out from their base and never finished it. It’s still got several meters of dirt overtop.”
“Nearly right,” David confirmed, dropping to a knee as he continued to mentally scan the area below. “There’s a flat top to it, but inside there’s a rotor assembly.”
“I…there, ok, I can just make that out. But what’s a giant fan going to do if it’s not connected to the air?”
“Not a fan, an auger,” David said, dropping all the way to his chest in the snow to get his head a bit closer. “It’s meant to drill the last bit up to the surface.”
“Emergency exit?”
“Possibly…which would explain why there’s no guards,” he said, switching to teamcomm. “Anyone find anything?”
He got back a host of negatives, confirming his suspicion that this wasn’t a tunnel shaft that was being used by The Word.
“So we need to dig down to it?” Harry asked.
“Maybe,” David said, focusing his Pefbar into as narrow a cone as he could to reach down to the base of the vertical rectangle where the tunnel met with it.
Suddenly there was a rumble from underneath and David jumped to his feet. “Maybe not. Everyone fall back,” he said, planting a special waypoint on the battlemap for them to scatter away from.
Beneath them David and some of the others whose Pefbar was advanced enough saw the rotor blades begin to spin within their casing, then once they got up to speed they elevated and broke through the thin metal, digging into the dirt and rising up towards the surface.
As David ran through the snow he looked back visually, seeing a mound of snow push up from below, then a stream of dirt burst out, blanketing the white landscape with something their eyes could actually lock onto. A few seconds later the dirt flew off the rotating auger as it came into view, with the square shaft rising up to the surface underneath it, forming a metallic hut that the falling snow started to blanket.
The rotors spun to a stop and David walked back over to it, hiking up and over a meter thick mount of snow/dirt around the new pavilion and stepped inside the two opposite walls, getting some cover from the snow as he spotted a control panel.
“It’s a lift,” he said over the comm. “Five with me, then come down in shifts.”
David switched his comm over to a frequency that would reach the dropship pilots, then ordered them to reposition their circle around the lift shaft as Harry and four other Archons stepped inside shoulder to shoulder with him, leaving just enough room for them to maneuver if/when combat broke out, otherwise they could have squeezed in more than twice that number.
David pressed the ‘down’ button and the floor began to lower them into the metallic hole. Once their heads passed below the rim and descended another two meters, an iris closed above them, shutting out the cold and the dim light, leaving them in total darkness.
Fortunately that wasn’t a problem, given that their Pefbar allowed them to see quite well, not to mention that their armor also had lights if needed, though none of the Archons turned them on, not wanting to make better targets for themselves when the lift reached the bottom.
There was no door on it, so a crack formed at their feet first, then it expanded up into a full square opening that led them into a very wide and deep tunnel at the base of what looked like a loading dock and a pair of ramps…with absolutely no one in sight.
Harry noticed the single control panel on the wall beside the lift shaft, noting it only had one button.
“You pressed that from up there?”
“Barely,” he admitted. “Saves a lot of digging.”
“No lights,” Mike-10395 observed, looking at the ceiling and walls that were clearly synthetic rather than having been cut out of rough stone…then again, with an Ocean nearby one didn’t want to have to worry about potential leakage. Still, this tunnel entrance was the nearest to the base coordinates at some 420 miles away, meaning someone had gone to a lot of work to carve out and line the tunnel…yet they hadn’t bothered to add lights?
“Maybe they haven’t finished yet, or maybe they don’t need them,” David said, pressing the ‘up’ button on the lift and hopping off it as it returned back to the surface so the next group could make their way down. “That’s a lot of tunnel to light if you’re hardly ever going to use it.”
“We would,” Mike noted.
David frowned as the lift disappeared above the entrance. “Point.”
“You think the other tunnels are like this?” Harry wondered.
“No, I think we got the spare,” David said as he got on the teamcomm. “Looks like we’re going to need the mongooses after all. Get them unpacked once the dropships move. Should be able to fit four.”
“Wide tunnel,” Harry remarked after he’d finished. “Too big for this little exit.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” another acolyte remarked. “Unless all the tunnels are the same size.”
“A lot of extra digging,” Harry replied, with the Archons looking out down the tunnel as far as their Pefbar would allow. They could see the floor, walls, and pointed ceiling forming a house-like pentagon, but there was nothing visible as the tunnel disappeared beyond their view a few dozens of meters ahead, depending on the individual Archon.
David went ahead and flicked his suit’s lights on, but they didn’t penetrate much further. The other five did likewise, brightening the immediate area with small floodlights, but the massive tunnel, easily wide enough to hold a four-lane highway, swallowed them up, not letting them see very far ahead, but according to the reconnaissance scans the tunnel descended at a shallow angle until it reached a depth of several kilometers below the seafloor, then it flattened out and wiggled its way out towards the center of the Arctic, intersecting with another spur line before connecting to the main base.
There were no other stops, so far as the limited scan could see, but a small outcropping or checkpoint wasn’t out of the question…though David got the feeling they weren’t going to find anything but empty tunnel until they got out to their destination.
It took longer than he expected for the first group of mongooses to come down. They’d packed them into the dropships in case there wasn’t any local Word transportation for them to pirate, given the hundreds of miles that they weren’t going to travel on foot. Each of the mongooses had been equipped with a backup fuel canister underneath the seat sufficient to get them out and back at least once on the furthest length of tunnel…with David’s being the shortest of them all, meaning they shouldn’t have any problems, and could probably make it on a single load, but given the lengths involved they didn’t want to take chances, which is why they brought a mongoose for each person, giving them the option to double up if one or more became damaged.
This was The Word after all, and even though he didn’t feel like there was any danger here, they weren’t above using booby traps, so they’d also brought a long a few multi-seaters that could carry extra gear, including some drones. Only if they got very lucky would they get to the base and find the doors open, and with this entrance not having any defenses whatsoever David pretty much ruled out that possibility.
Whatever was waiting for them they’d tackle while the drilling team created their own back door…he just hoped the base didn’t have a self-destruct nuke tucked away, and they’d brought ultra-sensitive detectors to try and smoke out that possible threat, but if it was well-shielded they’d never know until it was too late.
Which was why the drones got to go first, both in the tunnels and the drilling shaft.
Once all 32 Archons and their rides were down the shaft…with the mongooses having to be pushed more than driven through the thick snow…David mounted up his low to the ground four wheeler with a small gear satchel attached to the back in place of a second rider and trolled his way up to the front of the group, with the onboard lights punching much further down the tunnel than their armor’s had…yet still they were ate up by the distances involved.
“Travel by twos,” David ordered, pulling out ahead but at a speed the others could easily match as they formed up. “3 second spacing. If we come up on something I don’t want us pancaking. If anyone has trouble say so immediately. It’s a long walk back if you fall off the group, and the tunnel is smooth enough we’re going to be moving fast. Let’s go.”
David, now with Harry flanking him on the left and both of them with meters of space between them and the walls, accelerated smoothly, dragging the others behind him in a long convoy of nearly silent vehicles, but with the lack of any other sounds they made for a buzzing swarm of bees as they zipped off down the annoyingly straight tunnel, with David feeling the slight downhill as he passed 100km per hour. He continued to accelerate further, eyes focused ahead in case any obstruction might occur, but none would come.
Over the next several hours the mongooses would fly down empty tunnel enroute to the branch point…which was likewise undefended. It was merely a splitting of the tunnel, with no sign of anyone in either direction. The spur turn was the largest they had to navigate, but while the rest of the tunnel appeared straight there were very shallow adjustments as it almost imperceptibly zigzagged its way across the Arctic bedrock, allowing the mongooses to maintain their high rate of speed.
The closer they got to their target the more angst David felt. He knew the drilling team was even now coring its way down to the base, and he wondered how close they had to get to breaching before The Word would become aware of their activity. If it’d been Star Force, they would have put some small sensors on the Ocean floor above, or maybe that was just paranoid thinking. After all, The Word had built this base by digging under the Arctic because they couldn’t venture out into the ocean without Star Force’s aquatics fleet noticing.
So no, they probably didn’t know they were being drilled down to, but thanks to David’s group’s easy insertion, it was questionable as to who would get to the target first, and what they would find when they got there.
David didn’t like going in blind, but given the size of these tunnels, the obvious difficulty in crafting them, and the fact that only the Masters knew of their existence told him that this was finally the rat hole Star Force had been looking for the past 45 years, and he was eager to get inside and ruin their day.
3
After more than 5 hours of travelling through the dark, annoyingly straight tunnel the view ahead finally changed. What had been a black pit directly ahead of them solidified in the faintest glare of their headlights and David immediately eased off the accelerator.
“Hold up,” he ordered, gradually slowing down his mongoose to a stop as the rest of them caught up and idled behind him, still keeping decent formation spacings. David activated the zoom on his helmet and got a decent look at what appeared to be a massive door or wall ahead, blocking the tunnel off, though they were still far enough away that the dim lighting wasn’t very distinct, and they were so far away he didn’t have a hope of reaching out with his psionics for any additional information.
“Break out a drone,” he ordered, flicking on his Pefbar and adding it to the view of dozens of mongoose lights just before there was a small flash ahead, followed by a super-loud ping/screech as something flew past them over their heads…then the boom of a cannon caught up to them as it reverberated down the tunnel.
“Get against the walls!” he said over the comm as he drove his mongoose up against the right side just as another ping/screech sounded, this time closer to them and he could see just a tiny blur of a projectile coming up from a low angle as it deflected off the floor of the tunnel and passed through the Archon formation…hitting one of the multi-seaters.
The four wheeler got hit in the back quarter, shredding and spinning it about at the same time while throwing the single rider and cargo off violently into the side wall, with the momentum transferring and pushing the broken vehicle back down the tunnel the way they’d come.
“Eyes on with snipes, rockets ready,” David said, having neither on his mongoose, but he knew others did. “What have we got?”
Another projectile whizzed by them, this time not hitting the floor until it was passed them all, and David could see it gouge out a shallow trench in the floor where it hit.
“Cannon attached to the ceiling,” one of the acolytes reported. “Marking now.”
“Take it down,” David said unnecessarily, for a split second later a rocket whizzed back the other way, followed by two more at intervals, streaking down the long tunnel towards the laser dot the sniper had on the inverted tank turret. Another projectile shot through the Archons before the first of the rockets hit, followed quickly by the others.
“Target neutralized,” the sniper reported.
“Anyone hit?”
“Just got my bell rung...but my mongoose is toast,” the Archon that had went flying said as he leaned against the wall while he got his spinning head under control.
“Get a drone out and up there,” David said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Let’s see what else they’ve got waiting for us.”
After a couple of minutes of unpacking, a little dog-sized remote control drone zipped past David and headed up towards the wreckage of the cannon turret, still too far away for David to see, even with zoom. He altered his comm settings and pulled the transmission frequency from the drone so it showed in a small popup window on his HUD, giving him an eyes-on view of the tunnel as the end doors/wall gradually grew larger.
He guessed they were at least a half mile away, but by the amount of time it took the drone to travel the distance it might have actually been farther. Eventually the view of the doors widened, including a crack between the two half, confirming that they actually were doors and not the back wall of a perpendicular tunnel crossing, with a junked turret still hanging from the peak of the ceiling over a small debris pile beneath it.
As David watched a trio of small objects rose up from the floor, looking for all the world like Doctor Who’s Daleks. A few moments later they started acting like them too, firing blue plasma streaks out towards the drone and knocking it offline with 3 quick hits.
“Anti-personnel turrets,” David announced unnecessarily, for the rest of them had been watching as well. “I want snipers with eyes on along the walls while the rockets advance up the center with me. Mongooses stay put.”
“I’ve got a bead from here,” one of the snipers offered.
“How stable?”
“Twitchy, but I think I can chew it up a bit.”
“Give it a try.”
With the words barely out of his mouth a yellow lachar flash lit up the tunnel, followed by four more in rapid succession, then one of the other snipers observing chimed in.
“He’s making good hits. I think we might be able to take them all out from here.”
“Please do,” David prompted, with seven other snipers starting to take pot shots at the turrets…that suddenly decided to retract into the floor.
“Damn it, they pulled them back in.”
“Hold on,” David said, pulling a pack of explosives off his mongoose and setting it on the floor before he hopped on. “I’ll get their attention. Rockets and two snipers move up to half distance and stand by.”
David turned his mongoose back on and slowly rolled it out and hugged the right side of the tunnel, giving the snipers as much room as possible. His armor could stand up to a few wayward shots, but he wasn’t eager to take any friendly fire. He gave the snipers some time to reposition as he maintained his right side line and accelerated up to about 30 kph and held that speed, zooming ahead with his helmet and looking for any surprises, intent on stopping where the drone had been killed.
He didn’t get that far before a couple of the turrets popped out of the ground and started firing at him…with several yellow flashes answering back. Both hit, with the former impacting David on the chest and being repelled by his shields at first, then one hit lower and punched a hole in the mongoose’s front bumper shield, but it didn’t slow the machine.
The leftmost turret blew apart after a few well-placed hits…then it was replaced by four more popping up, one of which came out of the wall.
David slid the mongoose to a stop just short of where the dead drone lay as the plasma and lachars crisscrossed, then it took a few too many hits and lost power…as did his shields as they were overwhelmed with several consecutive hits, leaving the remaining plasma streaks to gouge into his green armor.
The Archon jumped off the mongoose into a backflip and came down behind it for some cover to let his shields regenerate as the snipers continued to do damage to the turrets that were just a bit too far ahead of David for him to see with his Pefbar, but he could confirm that there were no minds around the tunnel doors and turrets, meaning all of these were automated/remotely controlled defenses.
He pulled his plasma pistol off his back rack, kicking himself for not bringing a rifle. The one he had on his back was a stinger, given that they planned to take The Word personnel prisoner. Some of the other Archons had plasma rifles and a mix of other weapons, but not him. He just had a plasma pistol and a bunch of ammo, along with a stinger pistol and rifle, plus some Kiritas grenade/mines that he was still too far away to use.
“Rockets ready,” someone said over the comm as David ducked down behind his quickly shredding mongoose corpse.
“Test shot…don’t waste ammo,” he said, showing nerve under fire as a single rocket zipped past him. He couldn’t see it hit, but he could hear the explosion.
“Door hit,” Harry told him, referencing the fact that it had missed the small turret and blasted into the barrier behind it…which was ok, given that David expect them to have to blow their way through anyway.
“Get closer,” he said as his shields flicked back on, indicated by an icon on his helmet’s HUD.
“Permission to get reckless?” Harry asked.
“Define reckless.”
“Mongoose plus det pack.”
David smirked inside his helmet. “Don’t hit the drone on the way by…or me.”
“Keep your head down.”
David did as instructed, though there wasn’t much of the mongoose left to hide behind. He’d resorted to dropping down on his belly to stay behind some of the debris, but the turrets kept pounding it, whether on auto-tracking or remote he wasn’t sure, but they were methodically eating up his cover, with one of the rear tires exploding into a spray of rubber just before another mongoose zipped past him and drew their fire.
Harry’s icon fell off behind it, though David couldn’t see anything directly, and it stayed put on the ground as they both waited several long seconds for the very large boom to come. When it did the loose mongoose parts blew back over top of him in the concussion wave, exposing him a partial view ahead.
“Turrets neutralized,” Harry reported with obvious satisfaction in his voice.
David stood up, brushing the debris off him just in time to see some 6 more pop up out of the floor and walls and start shooting at the two of them.
“To hell with this,” David said, reaching into his pack and pulling out a partial glove that he slipped over his right hand. “Rockets get as close as you have to and light these bastards up. I’ll draw out the rest,” he said as two came by him in the tunnel before he’d even finished talking. He ran by Harry, who was already side pedaling to get out of the way, then pulled out a Kiritas grenade from his pack with his left hand and rubbed it against the activation pad on his right, taking several plasma hits to his shields that quickly went down again.
Harry pulled out a plasma rifle and started taking aim at the turrets, hoping to draw at least some of their fire away from David or knock one of them out as he ran forward, but held his position against the wall, neither advancing nor retreating as his shields also went down.
Rockets and lachar flashes filled the tunnel behind them and poured in on the turrets, blowing apart 3 of them almost instantly, with more of the trashcan-sized pylons popping up to replace them, including some coming down from the ceiling around the remains of the cannon turret. As he soaked up plasma hits on his armor, David sidearmed the remote grenade towards the nearest one then dropped to a knee, keeping his eye on the hockey puck with his thumb rubbing the detonation trigger on his right hand.
When it bounced off the floor and skidded up next to one he triggered it, blowing apart half the device, but not able to take out the firing eye that shot back at him once before a pair of sniper shots finished it off as they deftly found the hole in the casing he’d just made.
More turrets popped up and more got knocked down by the rockets, with David advancing a few more steps, arming another grenade and hurling towards a target, detonating when it got where he wanted it, then repeating the process several more times as his armor got very chewed up…but he knew he was the only one in the group with the denser ranger plates, so if someone was going to play bait it had to be him.
Eventually the defenders ran out of turrets, thankfully before the Archons ran out of rockets, but as David cautiously walked up towards the debris field around the heavily damaged but as of yet unpenetrated doors his mask filters locked up. He frowned and looked around the area, stretching out his Pefbar into spotlight mode and searching the walls…finding small ventilation shafts that were pumping out a cloud of toxic smoke that was quietly mixing in with the dust from the rocket explosions.
“Damn it,” he said, knowing that he only a few minutes of reserve air to work off of. They could retreat back down the hall, for he doubted they had enough poison to fill it all up, but it would be taking them in the wrong direction and buying time for the enemy…something they couldn’t afford.
David picked the weakest spot on the now damaged door and chucked a grenade towards it, telekinetically stopping it before it hit, then wedging it into a nook before letting go and detonating, then he checked with his Pefbar to see how thick the door was, finding in that spot it only had a few inches of material left.
David marked that position with a waypoint on their battlemap and stepped to the side, ignoring the toxins pouring out around him.
“We’ve got toxic gas coming in near the doors. I want every rocket we have left to hit the waypoint, and start bringing up the remaining det packs. We have to break through now,” he said as he slowly walked away from the doors as the rocket streaks started coming in and exploding behind him.
He couldn’t see much from the distant mongoose lights, nor his own armor lights, but in his Pefbar he caught all of them as they passed, along with the explosions behind him, allowing him to monitor the damage even with his back to the doors.
“Cease fire,” he ordered some 35 seconds later when he spotted a hole forming. Once the rockets fell silent he ran over to it, knowing his oxygen was still on the clock, and examined the basketball-sized hole beaming with light from the far side. He pulled out and primed three grenades and wedged them in and around the hole, with him having to telekinetically hold one in place as he backed up.
When he trigged them all simultaneously the hole expanded out wide enough for a single person to climb through…which he did after a quick Pefbar check of the far side. Going through head first in a gymnastic spillover that had his chest armor leaning on the bottom edge of the hole so he could squeeze his pack through the top, he rolled out into a bad somersault and fell off to the side, due to his lumpy pack. He got to his feet quickly and looked around, seeing a small clump of mini-skyscrapers and other buildings directly ahead underneath a very high and well lit dome.
Around the perimeter was an open ring that he now stood in, with The Word city inside covered with numerous Star Force ID tags.
“I’m through,” he said over teamcomm, walking away from the breach point and having his filters unlock and start drawing in fresh air, thankfully. He looked up at the top of the dome and saw a tiny hole in the ceiling plates where the drill team had come through, realizing that they had beat his team here and were already engaged.
“Everyone get in here, we’re late for the party,” he said, switching comm frequencies. “Status report?”
“Hey boss, glad you finally showed up,” Nathan replied. “We’re in a bit of a pickle right now.”
“What have you got?” David asked, walking a bit further away and looking around, unable to see anything on the outer ring that was completely devoid of buildings or other objects. The dome arched straight down into the floor, with two other large door entrances spaced around the perimeter as evidenced by the battlemap that was now updated with the information the drill team had already gathered.
“Walkers, small quadrupeds and one big biped. Big one shot up on our way down, with a couple of guys falling and getting messed up really bad. They’re alive and we’ve got them out of the fire in a building, but we’ve got our hands full. There are a lot of stationary turrets that we’ve been working our way through, but the big one is preventing us from bringing anyone else down from up top. We’ve got 9 down here and not much in the way of plasma weapons to work with.”
“David, glad somebody finally showed up,” Rikku broke in. Apparently the ranger had been one of the first ones down.
“There’s gas at our entrance. They using it anywhere else?”
“Not that I know of. It’s all walkers and turrets in here…with no people that I’ve been able to find, though we haven’t had much of a chance to look. I can’t sense any within Ikrid range.”
“Hiding or bugged out?” David said, hearing footsteps approaching from one of the narrow streets between buildings as his team began to come through the door hole one at a time.
“Don’t know.”
“Stand by,” David said, running up towards the noise and pulling out his plasma pistol just before a horse-sized quadruped walker moved out and swiveled its dual back turret his way. It pumped more plasma into his already damaged armor, with his shields holding up against the first two shots before going down again.
David shot back, but rather than gun it out with the thing he sprinted towards it and slid underneath the legs, jamming his own between its metallic supports and twisting them askew. With some heavily applied leverage he tipped the beast over onto its side and kicked his way free before climbing up over onto the back and pumping four shots directly into the turret barrels and slagging them as the walker started to stand up despite the Archon’s weight on it…which wasn’t much with him weighing about 225 lbs including armor and pack.
David stayed on top of the thing as it righted itself, pumping shots into the main casing until he melted through, then he tossed his weapon aside and pulled out a grenade, primed it as the thing tried to buck him off, then pushed it into the hole…or tried, for he did fall off the second time.
The grenade fell askew, but with a quick reacting telekinetic grab he redirected it back into the hole then blew the thing, popping out the armor plates like a flower and leaving the dead hulk of the walker standing erect like a dead AT-AT.
“Sorry,” David said, getting back on the comm. “You guys in any immediate trouble?”
“We’re holding on our,” Rikku replied, “and thinning out the stationary turrets where we can. It’s the big mech we don’t have the firepower to take down.”
David looked on his battlemap for the tag, and found the enemy mech just outside his view behind the buildings around the ring to his right.
“I’m on it. Any signs of a self-destruct?”
“Not yet, but we’ve been pretty busy so don’t hold me to it.”
“Keep your eyes peeled. We’ll take care of the mech.”
“Have at it,” Rikku prompted.
“Need help?” Nathan offered.
“Nope, he’s mine,” David said, running off along the buildings in its direction.
4
“How many rockets do we have left?” David asked over his teamcomm as he poked his head around the corner of one of the buildings and got eyes onto the mech as it twisted to the left and fired its two arm-based plasma cannons up to the ceiling as a rope dropped down from the drill hole. The plasma melted it in half even as a couple other Archons were peppering the mech’s legs with small arms plasma fire, trying to create a distraction.
Once the bottom half of the rope fell, the biped mech twisted its torso around and angled its arms down and fired into the street gap between buildings as the Archons fled back to cover, with David spotting a bulgy rocket pod over its right shoulder along with what looked like a stubby head.
“Seven left,” Harry reported after taking a quick count.
“Get up here and unload on the thing. Everyone else into the streets and go after the quadrupeds…and stay away from the big one. It’s got a pair of heavy plasma cannons, but it looks too large to move anywhere aside from the outer ring.”
“And the tunnels?” Harry guessed.
“Probably,” he answered as the first of the rocket launcher toting Archons came up behind him. “Pick a spot and everyone hit it. We can’t afford to scatter fire.”
“We still have some det packs,” Synker-8299 suggested.
David pulled one of the silver discs out of his pack and held it up for Synker to see. “I still have some of these. Get me a hole in the armor if you can.”
“Pick your spot,” the acolyte said as two more rocket launchers caught up to them, each with three rounds that they’d collected from the others.
David grabbed his plasma pistol in his right hand and leveled it at the back of the big mech and fired a single shot, making a tiny pot mark just below the ‘head’ and off to the right. The mech didn’t respond to the sting, but continued to take pot shots the other way as it walked further around the ring and temporarily out of sight.
“As fast as you can,” David said as the foursome ran up, with him diverting into a side street as he continued to talk on the comm. “Don’t shoot anywhere else if it turns around,” he said, running to the nearest cross street and ducking to the right, intent on getting ahead of it in case it did turn around.
But between him and it was another quadruped roaming moving up the street, with him turning right into its firing path. Wanting to save his grenades he exchanged plasma pistol fire with it, eventually winging the turret and knocking out one of the barrels before he got up to and jump kicked it down onto the ground…along with himself as he fell off.
He pumped several more shots into the turret then took off running again, not sure if he’d completely disabled it or not, but needing to get over to where the mech was.
David passed the next side street, noticing another Archon to his far left taking on another quadruped, along with several other hulks further into the tiny city. Up ahead there was a junked turret that Rikku’s team had already gotten to, and David noticed that it was the same rising variety that they’d encountered back in the tunnel.
After that he began noticing more circles on the ground, possibly additional turrets that hadn’t been raised yet, but he didn’t have time to try and dig them out. When he came up to the next side street he turned right…then skidded to a halt and backtracked as he saw the mech looking at him from the other end.
David ducked into the other side of the intersection just as the first rocket slammed into the mech’s back…then after that David didn’t see anything, but on his battlemap the mech icon began to move, so he reversed his direction again and headed back into the street, just seeing the right arm of the biped disappear to the right behind the buildings.
He sprinted forward, only to have one of the hidden turrets pop up ahead of them and start shooting. His shields indicated that one of his emitters had been fried, leaving his maximum shield strength at 82%...and he knew that with a few more armor hits the rest would go out too, leaving his chewed up plates as his only defense. But the mech came first, so he ran into the oncoming fire, dodging this way and that to make some of the shots miss, then skidded to a halt right in front of the turret and fired his plasma pistol into the ‘eye’ where it had no plating and melted the firing chamber.
The next shot it tried to fire blew the whole thing up like a grenade, tossing David into the building on the right as he tried to run past. He slumped to the ground, shook his head once, then got back to his feet and sprinted on, coming up to the outer ring and poking his head around the corner where he saw the mech walking off chasing after the rocket launchers with a bit of armor damage in the back…but not enough to penetrate all the way into the interior.
David took a breath then ran after it, pulling out a Kiritas grenade and arming it in his right palm. When he got partway up to the mech he stretched out his Pefbar to see into it, confirming his suspicion that it was carrying some very thick armor plates…then the mech stopped and began to twist its torso around to target him.
“Damn it,” he said, turning hard right and ducking into the closest side street just as it fired its right arm plasma cannon.
The blast just missed his feet as he dove into cover, but his diversion got the mech’s back exposed again and three more rockets flew in, causing the mech to pause as it decided who to shoot at, eventually picking David and walking out in front of the street so it could fire down it.
As it did David backtracked and ducked underneath its legs, running out the back side before it could move and step on him. He kept jerking around, avoiding its steps and arms while getting it to turn its back again on the rocket launchers, getting the 7th rocket to come in and hit the damaged area, reducing the armor there to less than an inch of thickness.
As if in response to the mech’s inability to get at David, two quadrupeds popped out onto the outer ring and came towards them, firing their turrets with impunity, unafraid of damaging their bigger twin with leg shots.
David knew he couldn’t take them down from range with his pistol, so he tagged them with a waypoint requesting fire support, then he worked his way around until he got a clear view of the mech’s back and flipped an active grenade up towards it, telekinetically steering it into the breach.
He wedged it in as best as he could, then ducked out of the way of a backwards step by the mech’s big foot and detonated it, seeing with his Pefbar that there was still a bit left, but only a couple of millimeters, though he couldn’t measure accurately at this range. He saw enough to know he needed another, so as the quadrupeds kept melting additional divots in his armor, he activated and slung another grenade up, steering it into place.
When it blew it knocked out a tiny section of the armor, which David immediately followed up with another grenade, forcing it inside and blowing apart the innards of the mech and expanding upon the hole in the armor slightly…but it wasn’t enough, for the big machine continued to move about and fire.
Fortunately the quadrupeds got flanked a moment later, with one turning to deal with the approaching Archons and the other still tracking David, only to get forcibly knocked over with a jump kick by Rikku. Her green armored hands shot into the turret top and physically wrenched it off the machine as the one behind her got bathed in plasma fire from a side street.
The mech rotated around to shoot at Rikku, but she sprinted up and got underneath its legs along with David, who sent her a quick telepathic message. The other ranger moved to the side as the mech repositioned, then put her hands together into a makeshift step and waited for David, who ran up and put his foot in her hands.
She used all her strength to get him as much height as possible, which was just enough for him to snake a hand into the breach point. He held on and leveraged himself up into a two-handed hold, then swapped a hand for a foot and climbed up on top of the mech’s shoulder where he did a spread eagle to try and hold on as the mech shifted about.
Rikku ran off out of sight of the mech and ducked into a side street before it could fully turn around, leaving David alone to wrestle with it, now that the two quadrupeds were down.
He waited till it settled and got up to a knee…only to have it pitch forward and try to dump him off, but he got a hand on one of its edges and held on, then pulled himself back up to the peak and wedged his feet against the side of the missile box and his right forearm against the flat ‘head’ while he ducked his free left hand into his pack and pulled out another grenade. He swiped it against the activation pad on his right hand then repositioned himself as the mech jerked again, taking a brief moment of opportunity to reach down and tuck the grenade inside the hole.
David didn’t detonate it, but reached into his pack and dug out three more in sequence, having to be very careful not to get bucked off. He activated each of them and stuffed them inside, saving his last two as he slid his legs around and dropped off the back. He crunched into a ball on impact, then took off sprinting away as he thumbed the detonator button on his right hand.
He felt and heard a small boom from the grenades, then a much larger one as the internal detonation reached up into the missile box and triggered the missiles’ fuel loads to combust. When David swung around the closest corner and into a side street he glanced back, seeing that the mech was missing its right arm and a third of its torso…as well as standing perfectly still.
“Sweet,” Rikku commented.
“Is it dead?” David asked.
“I’d say so…and there’s no pilot. Which means someone has been driving it by remote.”
David frowned, running back out cautiously and down towards the mech that had its back to him. When he got up to it, running well wide of the direction its remaining arm was pointing, he looked inside the damage and confirmed that there was no pilot’s compartment.
“Has anyone seen or felt any Word personnel?” David asked over the all Star Force channel.
“Nothing,” Nathan said after a long period of silence. “Looks like they rabbited.”
“Someone has to be controlling these defenses, and I doubt its anything other than a local link.”
“Hold up,” Jet broke in. “There’s someone down deep. I can barely sense him.”
“I’m on my way. Everyone else keep cleaning up.”
Devin sat on the front edge of the 10-wheeled, flatbed transport as it rolled down the dark tunnel without so much as a bump to break up the monotony. Two more transports followed behind them with the rest of his assault team onboard. They’d had to fight their way through a small fortification at the tunnel entrance, disabling some 6 guards who’d been on station in the subsurface bunker that was topped off with a food processing factory.
The tunnel itself was blocked off by a small fortification with remote turrets that they’d had to fight their way through, though they and the guards didn’t provide much trouble for the Archons. Devin figured they were there to keep factory workers out should they have happened across the well-disguised entrance in one of the spare storage rooms.
The factory was in northern Russia, and Devin’s team had appropriated the transports from within the tunnel itself. They’d been parked at the entrance awaiting cargo shipments, he assumed, and the Archons had taken them and the guards and started the hundreds of miles trek atop the open air transports. Other than the wind and the whine of the engines and tires, Devin could have swore they were still parked, making for a long, boring drive.
He had his legs hanging off the front and was staring out at the short stretch of tunnel ahead that the transport’s flood lights illuminated as the walls passed by wide to either side. The tunnel itself was more than wide enough to hold two of the trucks side by side, giving the driver plenty of wiggle room that he didn’t need while traveling down what felt like one very long, perfectly straight underground shaft.
But it wasn’t. Devin was following their progress on his battlemap, which was updating as they traveled. The tunnel had made several slight redirects as it passed underneath the Arctic Ocean, which meant it was cutting off line of sight transmission. They’d passed a spur a little over an hour ago, but hadn’t been able to make contact with the other tunnel team. Devin guessed this was because of the little twists in the tunnels, but if they’d gotten delayed, or somehow were ahead of them, then they might also have been out of range, for their armor’s communication systems would only travel so far.
Still, he was surprised they hadn’t bumped into each other yet, and wondered if Lio’s team might have had more trouble at their entry point than his.
Devin figured they had another couple hours to go before they hit the coordinates of the base, so he sat off the front of the transport, thinking through various scenarios they might face when they got there, when the view ahead suddenly shifted. It wasn’t much, but after such a long time with nothing to see the tiny pinprick of light caught his immediate attention.
Devin grabbed an edge beside him for leverage.
“All stop, lights off,” he ordered.
The transport’s engine wound down and the vehicle slowed, with Devin’s momentum tugging him forward as a result. He held on and inched back a bit so he didn’t fall off as the lights went out and the driver kept them off the walls using his Pefbar alone. When the lead transport finally stopped Devin hopped off two meters down to the ground and landed in a reflexive crouch, then got up and walked forward a few steps as he zoomed ahead with his helmet cam.
There was definitely something coming their way, and they weren’t registering on his battlemap…meaning they weren’t Star Force.
“Reposition the trucks to block the tunnel. Everyone else come forward and line the walls. They may not have noticed our lights yet. Get into flanking position with stingers ready. We want whoever they are alive.”
“I count at least two transports,” Pao-999 said from behind his sniper rifle. He was the only ranger amongst the group, though technically Devin was still in command since Green Team had the lead on this mission. “Probably more. They’re single file.”
“Let’s move people,” the acolyte said, running down the right side to get enough distance away from their own transports that were now repositioning sideways to cover the full width of the tunnel. If they’d seen the lights they’d stop short or try to blow through, either way the Archons needed to be further out so they could respond. If the lead vehicle rammed the parked ones, the entire convoy would back up, meaning they would already be in position to hit all the vehicles simultaneously…or chase after them should they start to turn around and flee.
Thankfully the oncoming vehicles were further away than they looked, with even the smallest amount of light traveling a great distance in the pitch black tunnel. Once Devin got where he wanted he motioned others on by him so he could be more towards the center.
“Don’t let the last one turn around,” he said, stretching out his Pefbar as wide as it would go so he could see the two Archons on either side of him, but just barely. There he waited, watching the lights growing larger, as if a train was coming their way, then the buzz of their fat tires rotating rapidly reached their position and caused a spike of adrenaline in Devin after so many boring hours of waiting.
“Here…kitty, kitty, kitty,” he whispered as he pulled out his stinger rifle and flattened himself up against the wall, ready to pounce.
5
Devin saw the first transport whip by him a few seconds before he heard it slam on the brakes and skid to a halt just short of the roadblock. The one behind it rear-ended the first, with the others doing the same and stacking them all up as some in the rear started moving sideways and angling for the walls to avoid the pileup as they too slammed on their brakes.
Several of the Archons jumped to avoid the transports, but they came back up a moment later peppering the tops with stingers from the floor or climbing up on top and taking it to the passengers at pointblank range. Devin jumped up onboard the one that nearly smashed him into the wall and unloaded on the 20-30 people onboard, most of whom had fallen over from the sudden stop.
Most didn’t have weapons, with him targeting the few that did first, then hammering those who were closest second, running through his rifle’s clip in under 30 seconds. With his transport secured he pulled out his stinger pistol and looked around in the scattering of flood lights, using both his Pefbar and Ikrid to search for targets…but the others had done their work well and none of The Word passengers were still conscious.
“Front and back…any stragglers?”
“Negative, none got through.”
“None off the back. All are down.”
“Ok, let’s do a head count and get these transports turned around. Stack ‘em up on top,” Devin said, dropping down to the tunnel floor to retrieve the few that had fallen off the side, one of which had a bloody head from the fall.
Devin pulled off an armored glove and pressed his fingers against the side of the man’s head, hacking into his nervous system despite the stun energy fogging up the connection, and confirmed that he was still alive, but he was bleeding considerably from the gash on his forehead and what was probably a broken nose.
The Archon reached into his pack and pulled out a small med kit, placing a healing patch on his head and sealing it in place over the split skin while leaving the nose to clot up on its own. He reached an arm underneath the man’s abdomen and lifted him up over his shoulder, passing him up to Rinan-10339 who was on top of the transport and lining up the unconscious prisoners.
“Devin, got something here you might want to see,” Pao said over the comm.
Devin checked his battlemap and found the ranger’s position further up the line of transports near the blockade point. “On my way.”
He headed up the staggered line, zigzagging between the flat-topped transports until he got to the second in line and climbed up on top. There he found about half the bodies lined up in neat rows with Pao leaning over one with his right hand visible outside his armor as he examined one of them. In his other hand he held a small container that he tossed up to Devin as he approached.
“These look familiar?”
Devin pulled the lid off and looked inside.
“Kill pills,” he confirmed.
“This guy had them on him, but he’s still alive. His head’s murky, but I think he’s one of their leaders.”
“Let me,” Devin said, kneeling down and taking the ranger’s place. Even though he outranked him overall, his Ikrid skills weren’t on par with Green Team’s, given the amount of experience they’d had. In fact, he wasn’t sure anyone else was, trailblazers included.
He pulled off his glove again and pressed his fingertips against the man’s head, finding the stun-induced haze that Pao had referenced, but he was able to dig a bit deeper than the ranger, pulling up some recent memories along with an identity.
“Bingo,” he said, throwing a glance at Pao. “Mr. Primarch himself.”
“Really?”
“Drill team must have spooked them,” Devin said, rolling the man over and getting a good look at his face. He was ‘middle aged’ with a few streaks of grey in his otherwise black hair, and far more fit than the Master David had brought in…though that wasn’t saying much, given that both men clearly weren’t anywhere near to achieving self-sufficiency.
“Where do you want to take them?”
“Nearest Star Force facility is the ship attached to the drill site. We’ll get him out there and decide what to do with the rest of them after we meet up with the others.”
“I’ll take point,” Pao offered, heading up to the back of The Word convoy as the last transports began moving side to side as they tried to turn around in the tunnel.
Devin looked on his battlemap and found one of the other acolytes, opening a secure comm channel to him.
“Kander, get over here. I’ve got your date for the rest of the mission.”
David ran across the city, having to stop only once to help down one of the last quadrupeds roaming about, and got over to the quarter opposite from their entrance where Jet was, scanning the surrounding buildings with his psionics, finding no one inside as Rikku had said. When he got near to Jet he focused his energy fields down into the ground, finding that the buildings went down beneath the floor multiple levels, but the single mind he detected was deeper still.
“He’s really down there,” David commented when he caught up to Jet as he was working his way through one of the buildings’ interior hallways.
“There’s a cross tunnel down there,” Jet said as he passed his fellow Archon. “It’s above him, but I think it might be the way down.”
“I see it,” David said, using his Pefbar to chart out its zigzaggy course beneath them, noticing that it was headed across the street into another building before it stretched out of his range. He followed a step behind Jet down the hall and out of the building, crossing the now quiet street into the neighboring blocky structure.
But it didn’t stop there. It continued on out beneath another building, and another, and another until it eventually wrapped back around on itself, leading them in a big circle.
“Did I miss an entrance somewhere?” Jet asked as they stopped near to where they began.
“Wait a second,” David said, holding still and stretching out his Pefbar as far as it would go and condensing it down into a spotlight to better examine the tunnel. In his mind’s eye he could only ‘see’ a small column, like a flashlight beam, and ran it along the piece of tunnel beneath them. They weren’t far from the source of the mind, which was considerably lower than the tunnel, meaning that if there was a connection below it would probably be near here.
“There,” David said, spotting a tiny connective shaft…or rather a tiny piece of it before his Pefbar range fizzled out. “A downspout.”
“Where?”
“Below the tunnel.”
“Ah…how do we get to the tunnel?”
“One thing at a time,” David said, walking off to follow the tunnel again…this time staying directly over top of it so maximize his limited psionic range, meaning he had to go into a lot of dead end rooms and keep constantly backtracking in order to scan every meter of it from as close as he could get.
It took him three buildings and a few hundred meters away from the source of the mind before he found a small deviation in the tunnel…a side shaft, less than a third of the tunnel’s width.
“Can you see that?” David asked Jet, stopping directly over top of the junction.
“What am I looking for?” the Archon asked, concentrating.
“A tiny connection on the left. It’s hazy even for me.”
Jet dropped down to all fours and pushed his head as close as he could get to the floor. “Maybe a little. My Pefbar is junk at that range. I can only see big objects.”
“Mine’s not much better, but we need to follow that shaft. Go across to the next building and as deep as you can get. See if you can pick it up. I’ll try to find where it goes under here. If it takes a turn I’ll redirect you.”
“On it,” Jet said, jogging off as David moved into the next room and focused hard again to mentally chart out the next few meters of the side shaft. When he got to the wall he had to backtrack and work his way around to the opposite room and pick up the trail there. After that he didn’t have to go far before the shaft made an abrupt turn to the left and interconnected with an equally tiny vertical shaft.
“Jet, never mind. Get back over here,” he said, ducking out of the room he was in and crossing over to another where the shaft came up…but when he got inside there was no visible entrance, just a ghostly ladder shaft behind what appeared to be a solid wall.
David walked up to it, getting a better resolution with his Pefbar the closer he got, and saw a faint line in the wall moving off from it. He followed the line, which he guessed was a wire, keeping his head less than a meter away so he wouldn’t lose it, and followed it around the corner and into a set of wall shelves just as Jet came in.
David pointed towards the spot on the wall, but kept his eyes on the wire until it finally stopped. He pulled a box off of the shelf in front of it and spotted a small shiny circle on the wall behind it. He touched it, with no response, then he removed his glove and did so again…also with no effect.
“Hold contact,” Jet suggested, and David put his thumb back on it. After a couple of seconds the wall segment broke apart on a nearly invisible seam and pushed out into the room in two halves, splitting down the midline.
“Well now,” Jet said, seeing the ladder at the back of the tiny closet.
“Rikku, I think we’ve found our rat hole. What’s your status?” David said as he followed Jet over to the ladder and placed a waypoint on the battlemap to mark its location for the others.
“City is clean as far as we can tell. Still got a lot of buildings to check, but psionics are coming up clear save for your guy.”
“Any booby traps?”
“No, but we haven’t been able to find the controls to open the other two doors either. The computers appear to have been wiped and if there’s a manual release we haven’t found it yet.”
“I have a feeling Mr. Wizard might have the key. Get back to you in a bit.”
“Copy.”
“No door keys,” David told Jet as he grabbed hold of the ladder rungs and followed the Archon down. “The other teams are going to have to fight their way in unless our dude is controlling the defenses.”
“My credits say he is,” Jet said as he stooped down to crawl into the side shaft that was barely a meter tall. “I’ll bet this guy stayed behind to run the turrets and mechs while the others bolted. I just hope he isn’t sitting on a self-destruct.”
“You read my mind,” David agreed, getting down on all fours and crawling in after Jet. Now that he was down level with the tunnel his Pefbar was giving him a lot more detail, and he could see ahead that the tunnel they’d been chasing was full height as opposed to the shaft they were crawling through.
When they got to the junction there was no door or grate blocking them, just a pitch black tunnel that they stepped out into, using their armor lights and Pefbar to see their way.
“You see anything else down here?” Jet asked as they began walking off down the half of the tunnel that headed towards their Word mind.
“Nothing,” David said as a panel fell shut over the shaft they’d just crawled out of with a loud clank.
“Oh shit,” Jet said as a number of tiny vents opened up at intervals down the hallway releasing more toxic gas.
“Move,” David prompted, with both Archons running towards their target as their filter locks kicked in. They got a few dozen meters before another panel pulled out of the wall in front of them and cut off the tunnel ahead.
“It’s shallow,” Jet said, seeing the panel’s width in his Pefbar before he walked up to it and kicked hard, putting a sizeable dent in it.
“Can you sense him from here?”
“Yes,” Jet said, kicking it in again.
“Fornax range?”
Jet paused, measuring the distance. “Pulse range I think. Want me to keep him occupied?”
David pulled out one of his last two grenades as an answer and activated it in his right palm. Jet backed up several steps and took a knee, facing away from the panel as he stretched out his mind and sent a Fornax blast off into the distance and down, followed by another a couple seconds later as David tossed his grenade towards the panel and telekinetically tucked it up into the right corner at the bottom before blowing it.
Bits of debris hit both Archons’ armor, but the blast broke the panel free and blew the large pieces down the tunnel. David ran through the gap with Jet following as he continued to send repeated Fornax blasts into the not so distant mind as they closed in.
When they got around the next corner in the tunnel they ran up against another panel, with David pulling out his last grenade as the poison gas continued to flow in. He chucked it down into a corner again and blew the barrier out, then ran on up to the next one, whereupon he began punching and kicking dents into it as Jet continued his mental distraction, easier now with closer range but more difficult to continue with each repetition.
It took some 40+ hits/kicks to warp the metallic barrier enough to pop a corner free, then David leveraged his knee into the gap and pushed, bending it aside enough for him to slip through. Jet followed, sensing they were getting close, but finding another panel in their way blocking their access to the vertical shaft that led down to their target.
“Switch,” Jet said, elbowing past David, who took up the Fornax blasts while Jet pounded the panel, one resting his mind while the other rested his muscles. They both knew they only had a few minutes before they ran out of oxygen, so neither Archon was going to waste a second of time.
When Jet had the panel down it proved to be the last, with them climbing down the ladder and coming up to a very solid door into a small room with a man lying on the floor on the far side, visible via Pefbar. While David kept him down Jet searched the opposite side of the door, seeing no latch, lock, or handle on the outside. It took him a few seconds, but he found the interior latch and telekinetically pulled up on it, moving it about half an inch.
“Some help please,” Jet said, pulling again as David added his own telekinetic tug while still maintaining the Fornax blasts. The latch pivoted up and the open sequence activated, with the door pushing in and swinging open.
The two Archons moved inside, David going for the downed man while Jet closed the door behind them, hoping to keep the gas out. It closed slowly, but locked in place with a satisfying hiss.
“Air,” David said as he pulled out his stinger pistol and pumped two green paintball into the man’s chest, knocking him unconscious.
Jet slid into the control chair, around which were three walls’ worth of monitor screens showing everything from the city streets to the base entrances and the poison-filled tunnel they’d just came in through.
“Working on it,” he said, sifting through the controls trying to find the life support systems for the room as he got a ‘low air’ warning on his helmet’s HUD, indicating that he had 60 seconds of air remaining.
David stood up and looked around the room, trying to find something to help with mechanically. He saw a couple of vents in the ceiling, and now that they were inside a lighted room he didn’t see the toxic clouds, but knew enough had gotten in when they opened the door that their filter masks wouldn’t open up.
That meant their friend here was in trouble, but at the moment he didn’t care. He and Jet needed air, and fast.
“Got it,” the other Archon said as David heard the air start to cycle. “Purging protocol.”
“Let’s hope it works fast,” David said, trying to slow his breathing and stretch his air out a few extra seconds…but he needn’t have bothered, for a moment later his mask unlocked, allowing him to draw air directly from the environment, along with his suit starting to replenish its oxygen backup supply in the same manner.
“That was close,” Jet said.
“No kidding.”
“No, I mean this…”
David looked where Jet was pointing and his eyes narrowed when he saw the trigger mechanism for a series of huge gas containers buried deep under the city…enough to flood the entire dome and well out into the three connecting tunnels.
“Why’d he wait?” Jet asked.
“Let’s find out,” David said as he knelt down next to the man whose nose had already started bleeding. He took off his glove and pressed his fingers against his head, resisting the urge to put his forearm on his neck to pull out some of the lingering stun energy to get a better read, but if the man was going to die he might as well do it unconscious.
“David, do you copy?” Nathan’s voice asked over the comm.
“We’re here,” he replied, focusing on the mental link while pointing a finger at Jet, then his own helmet.
The other Archon joined in on the party line, seeing that it involved Nathan. “David’s a little busy. What do you need?”
“We lost contact with you, and there’s a barrier over the shaft you marked.”
“Probably signal loss from being so deep…and the plate you’re referring to is holding back poison gas, so don’t go busting it open just yet.”
“Are you guys trapped?”
“That was the idea, but we got to the rat first. He got a breath or two of his own medicine, but we’ve got the control room now.”
“Good news, because we’ve got a team outside wanting in. Can you open the doors?”
“Hang on,” Jet said, twisting his chair around and looking through his control options. This computer hadn’t been wiped like the others had, but there were also a number of manual controls on the board in front of him. He pulled up a diagram of the base/city with one of them, then highlighted the doors, with his vid screen views changing to show a group of vehicles waiting outside…along with the remains of the turrets that had been defending it. There was also a small hole in the doors that they were apparently communicating through.
With a little exploring he found the open button and triggered all three to open up…then looked for the life support systems for the dome, hoping to initiate its own purging program to get rid of the lingering gas from the tunnel they’d entered from, and probably the other one as well.
“Got it,” Jet said as David released his hold on the man who was continuing to bleed out.
“Who showed up?” David asked.
“Devin’s team is the one held up. Assad’s group came through our door already. Devin’s got prisoners they captured on the way here, a lot of them.”
“Really?” Jet asked, feeling better already.
“They’re holding them back so the gas doesn’t get to them, but they want to evac at least one guy out the drill shaft. Devin says he’s got the Primarch.”
6
March 5, 2451
Solar System
Earth
The Primarch woke up staring at the wall of his cell and blinked off some of the post-stun haze he’d gotten used to over the past few days. Every time the Archons moved him locations they made sure he was unconscious, letting him wake up in a new place with no knowledge of how he’d gotten there.
He rolled over, feeling with his left hand the edge of the bunk he lay on, and twisted enough to see the blue energy field constricting him to a small cell with a pair of Star Force personnel on the other side.
“Morning,” David offered, leaning against the far left wall. The energy field was nearly transparent, with only a slightly colored tint to make both prisoner and guests aware of where the barrier lay.
“Where are we now?” he asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk and sitting up. He reached back a hand and massaged a slight crick in his neck, then ran his fingers up through his salt and pepper hair, trying to judge from the feel of it how many hours it’d been since his last shower. Apparently quite a few.
“Atlantis,” the other man said from the edge of the small table he was sitting on.
The Primarch squinted, recognizing the voice more than the face. “Director…you’re looking well for your age. You really should let the press update your photo profile. You’re getting younger by the decade.”
“They say they’re photoshopped anyway,” Davis replied as he stood up and walked forward, stopping a few inches shy of the energy field. “Some people just don’t understand the concept of self-sufficiency.”
“And where does your ambrosia fit in?” the Primarch asked, standing up and facing off with Davis.
“It’s a supplement that aids training with a mix of structural components and energy enhancements. Sort of a ‘super sugar.’ It doesn’t create the self-sufficiency, and many of our lower level self-sufficient personnel don’t have access to it.”
“But you use it?”
“I do.”
“Then your youthfulness is unnatural.”
“Define natural.”
“That which was predetermined by our genetic code. Alterations to the plan set in place are unnatural.”
“Artificial limbs?”
“Tools…though in Star Force’s case they seem to never be needed. Also several severely disfigured individuals have been miraculously healed after a clandestine visit.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“Such things imply an unnatural medicine, and where there is a deviation from nature there are always consequences. Some unforeseen.”
“You would leave them mangled?” Davis asked as David merely watched from the sidelines, intending to stay out of the conversation.
“They had their chance and it was wasted. Nature will see them replaced with the renewing of each generation.”
“You assume a commonality.”
“Humanity is a commonality.”
“Comprised of individuals.”
“Basic building blocks.”
“That must be bound together by force or choose to operate in concert. The commonality isn’t default.”
“It is default,” the Primarch argued. “The dynamics of connection must be maintained. If they aren’t, fragmentation occurs and your vaunted ‘individuality’ arises.”
“Which you’ll have ample opportunity to study during your 1000 year sentence. As you well know, Star Force prisons operate under isolation protocols. You won’t have any commonality to link with. You’ll have to operate as an individual.”
“Being disconnected from the commonality doesn’t make me any less part of it. We work for the advancement of Humanity. Much of that work is in isolation.”
“We’ll see,” Davis said, knowing from past experience that the isolation protocols forced many individuals through a cleansing fire of silence that resulted in them reverting to a learning state similar to childhood once society’s influence was removed. Like a narcotic, some had more difficulty adjusting to its absence than others.
“After my interrogation?”
“It won’t take as long as you think.”
“If you think I’m going to cooperate, you’re gravely mistaken. I won’t betray The Word.”
“The Word is already dead,” Davis said emphatically. “You’ve been captured, along with all 12 of your Masters…save one, who managed to get to his kill pills before we got to him. We’re interrogating them as well, and as you probably already noticed, we’ve been hitting a lot of your facilities…or did you notice? It hasn’t exactly been on the news.”
“We noticed, but what we didn’t notice was the leak that led you to Olympus.”
“Arrogant name.”
The Primarch raised an eyebrow. “Coming from Star Force I find that statement overly hypocritical, especially since we’re standing in Atlantis.”
“Olympus was the home of the gods. Your insistence on your natural function and limited existence make the name incompatible.”
“I may not live forever, but the Primarch will. Thus the leader of The Word is immortal, as is our cause and function within the commonality.”
“Given to you by whom? The Word didn’t originate with the beginnings of the universe, so I fail to see how it’s a natural function.”
“The function predates the organization. We merely acknowledged its existence and structured ourselves accordingly. We do not create our mandate, only respond to it. Star Force is the unnatural machination.”
“We safeguard Humanity, not The Word.”
“You safeguard against external threats, but do so by corrupting our purpose. One is a noteworthy function, the other is an abomination. We do not wish to end Star Force, merely to put you fully on the proper path which you already have a foot on.”
“Can nature be improved upon?”
The Primarch hesitated, unsure how to answer the question. “Nature provides us with all we need.”
“Technology?”
“Using the tools that are available within the structure of the universe is not contrary to nature, it is a function of it.”
“Yet you decry improvement. How can we be acting contrary to nature if we’re simply using the tools?”
“Misusing the tools,” the Primarch corrected him.
“Define misuse.”
“Utilizing the tools to act counter to purpose rather than to enact it.”
“By attaining self-sufficiency I and my associates are more knowledgeable and powerful, given the amount of training and experience we can accumulate with an unlimited lifespan. This allows us to safeguard Humanity better than a force that continually has to replace its personnel. We are using the tools of nature to accomplish our purpose.”
“But corrupting others in the process. That is not a victory.”
“Nor is it a victory when you have to sacrifice those you are trying to safeguard, for you become the enemy in the process.”
“Lifespans are not unlimited. A loss of a life is merely a premature death. Unfortunate in many cases when viewed from the individual perspective, but so long as the commonality continues, sacrifice can serve a beneficial purpose.”
“If there is a commonality or purpose to life, we are unaware of it. We are born in locations not of our choosing, through parents not of our choosing, at a time not of our choosing. We are thrown into this universe cold…we know nothing of who we are or why we are here, and we enter as individuals. Commonalities try to suppress the individual nature and conscript them into their groups, but it is that individuality that is the fundamental truth to life,” Davis said, getting at the heart of Star Force philosophy.
“We don’t know where we come from, just that we’re here,” he continued. “We have to figure out everything as we go, with our ‘nature’ being default programming inherent in our genetics to allow us to function cold. Sexuality insures reproduction, thirst and hunger encourages refueling, burning lungs triggers a breath. We operate on programing until the individual can learn how to operate their body and mind, and when they do…or perhaps I should say ‘if’ they do…they find the capability to reprogram themselves in order to customize their body and mind as they wish.”
“But we don’t know that when we’re born,” Davis said before the Primarch could utter a rebuttal. “We have to figure it out on our own, and there is so much complexity in the universe that we cannot figure it all out on our own…which is why we intercept individuals when they come into the universe and teach them what we know, skipping them through the ignorance phase and ensuring that most of them will live where otherwise they would not. We encourage the individual’s growth, and from it Star Force finds its strength and purpose.”
“We are all individuals, and to betray one of us is to betray all of us. Sacrifice is abhorrent because it goes against everything we are doing in life, with that being trying to advance, to learn, and to figure out what the hell is going on in the universe. If we die, it will be at the hands of an enemy or by accident. If it is at the hand of an ally or friend, then those terms no longer apply and we’re back to commonalities rather than individuals, for the sovereignty of the individual is the fundamental principle. Abandon it and you abandon reason.”
“Which is why we’re not going to kill you,” Davis finished. “You certainly deserve to die, given the things you’ve either organized or allowed to happen within The Word, but you are an individual, and now that we’ve made sure you’re not in a position to harm anyone else, we’ll leave you to ponder the mysteries of life in solitude. If you can’t understand the concept of self-sufficiency, there will be plenty of training aids made available, as well as workout facilities. You will either learn and grow and attain self-sufficiency…or you will not. If not, you will slowly degrade and die. Your fate is in your own hands, but one way or another The Word dies with you, for if you survive it will be by contravening the ‘nature’ you ascribe to.”
The Primarch crossed his arms over his chest. “So you’re not here to interrogate me. You’re here to pass sentence?”
“I’m here to look the bastard in the eye and see what he’s made of,” Davis said bluntly, allowing a bit of his anger to slip into view. “And I’m not impressed.”
“I am but a part of the whole. You shouldn’t be impressed with me, but I will say I am impressed by you. That you could have come so far and achieved so much while missing the basic truth of life.”
“Which is?”
“It ends. We accomplish a few tasks during our temporary window, advancing the commonality, then we pass on.”
“Obviously not.”
“Your longevity is unnatural, and as such it cannot be sustained. How long it will be before you realize this I honestly cannot say, but I know you merely prolong the inevitable.”
“You can take that and the rest of The Word nonsense to your grave while we live on…unless you wise up. Like I said, it’s a chance we’re giving you that you don’t deserve, but you have it none the less. If you want to commit suicide we won’t stop you, but you’re not going to have our help with it.”
“After the interrogation,” David corrected.
“Yes, after,” the Primarch echoed, looking at the face of the Archon he’d become familiar with during his brief stints of consciousness over the past few days.
“We still have questions that need answering so we can save at least some of the lives you’ve put in harm’s way,” Davis added. “After that your solitude will begin, and you won’t see another living being for the next millennia. So if you feel like talking, now’s the time.”
“Despite your assertions that the Masters have been captured, I only have your word for it,” the Primarch said defiantly, though Davis could detect a bit of trepidation in his eyes. “I won’t give you anything to compromise them…and through them The Word will continue. I am not the first Primarch and I will not be the last. You may have weakened us, but others will continue forward as we fall. That is the nature and structure of life. You can kill the individual, but the commonality will continue.”
“We’re not killing you.”
“So you say. I have yet to experience your interrogation techniques. If you have any skill with them, you would know that survival isn’t guaranteed. Then again, you do have this magical medicine. Will it be used to repair my mangled body?” the Primarch taunted.
Davis stared back at him, then a small smirk tugged its way onto his face. “You think that because I admitted to the existence of ambrosia that you can extract information out of me. You are mistaken. You are still a rookie, and rookies don’t get access to the higher levels of Star Force’s collective knowledge…at least not until you’ve earned it. Prerequisites and all that. Until you master the basics you don’t need to be distracted with the complexities.”
“You delude yourself if you believe I will become one of your initiates.”
“Oh, that won’t be happening. Even if you survive your millennia you won’t ever be allowed into Star Force. I was merely pointing out that your status as our primary enemy, here on Earth at least, doesn’t afford you any special privileges. You’re not our peer. You’re just a twisted kid, and as the days go by that point is going to grow more and more obvious.”
“Years do not necessarily beget wisdom,” the Primarch countered as Davis motioned to David, who hit the energy field release, dropping the blue barrier between them.
“We won’t meet again, so this is me saying goodbye,” Davis said, stepping forward into a short lunge and driving his left elbow into the man’s chest.
The Primarch flew backwards and bounced off the wall, tripping on the bunk that he then fell down onto, unable to get his balance as David sent a weak stream of Fornax energy into him, making him feel far more affected by the hit than he should have been.
Nice form, David commented telepathically as Davis turned his back on the Primarch and casually walked out.
All yours.
The ranger left his perch against the wall and walked over to the Primarch, who he was still feeding a bit of Fornax to keep his body wobbly, and helped him sit up, leaving his hand on the man’s right shoulder with a couple of fingers reaching over and brushing the skin on his neck.
“Packs a punch, doesn’t he?”
“A taste…of what’s to come?” the Primarch asked, his breathing heavy as Davis began hacking into his nervous system and subtly beginning the interrogation.
“No, no…if I hit you I might kill you. Why are all of you guys so pathetically out of shape? You can barely sit up right now.”
“You have unnatural strength. More so than I estimated, or is he as strong as you?”
David smiled, both at the question and the workout thread he identified in the man’s mind that gave him access to the Primarch’s daily routine that included some light running, weight lifting, and yoga…typical ignorant workout fluff, especially the weight lifting. David got a slew of memories from recent lifts, as well as him tearing a quad a couple months ago.
“Not even close,” David said, sending a bit more Fornax out to make the man slump over…all so he could help him sit back up, giving him an excuse for keeping a hand on his neck. “You and I are going to get to know each other very well. My name’s David.”
“Yes…I know. And if you don’t already know my name I’m not going to give it to you.”
As soon as the man said the words his name popped up inside his conscious thoughts, basically handing it to David.
“Do you prefer Jameson, James, or Jim?”
“Jameson will suffice.”
“Alright, Jim. Let’s get you over to a more comfortable room,” he said, pulling him up off the bunk with ease and practically dangling him like a puppet with the wobbly legs the Fornax was giving him. “Then we can start our very long chat. I’ll make sure they bring us some donuts.”
7
March 25, 2451
Solar System
Earth
David sat at the computer console in his room, typing out a report on his interrogation findings for the day while they were still fresh in his mind. He was handling the Primarch while the rest of Green Team was out with Blue and Red teams hitting Word facilities as fast as David and the rest of the interrogators could identify them. Those hits were likewise bringing back with them more prisoners to be interrogated, along with the 11 Masters they already had, which had prompted them to call in all the highest Ikrid-rated Archons within the system to assist with the mass of interrogations.
David and the others knew the faster they could hit The Word operations the more of them they’d be able to sweep up before they had a chance to respond. The cellular nature of their organization, which in the past had always been an advantage, was allowing the Archons to take out one Agent’s operations with the others more or less unaware, for the raids weren’t making the news vids.
Part of him wanted to be out there busting heads, but he knew the interrogation of the Primarch was the highest priority and wanted to get it finished as soon as possible so they could pass him off to a Star Force prison and wash their hands of him. Problem was he had a huge amount of intel, and digging it out of his mind was not a straightforward process…especially when David had to hide the fact that he had the ability to delve into the man’s mind through physical contact.
That said, he was making considerable progress and wanted to get the most recent finds into the computer records before he headed off for his second workout session of the day. He’d gotten all of his core workouts done in the morning before saying hi to the Primarch, but he wanted to get some skill work in this afternoon before he headed back over to assist with the interrogation of Master 2.
Today he’d dug out The Word’s origins from the man’s mind, finding that it had began back in the 2290s in direct opposition to the changes that Star Force was making on Earth…meaning the organization had operated in the dark for years before Davis had picked up on their illicit activity. What their ultimate goals were David hadn’t gotten to yet, but his prying into the Primarch’s mind clearly indicated that the man felt he was but one piece of an ever growing puzzle…a puzzle that Star Force was in the process of putting an end to before it could fully take shape.
David was keeping track of Green Team’s operations in between his interrogation sessions and workouts, all the while tagging new missions for them as he oversaw the collective data files being assembled piecemeal by all the Archons involved in the mass interrogations…which was why he needed to get his latest findings down in a report before the slew of facts he dealt with on a daily basis washed away some tidbits of information that may or may not prove useful in the long run.
‘Type now, think later’ had become his habit, and it allowed him to disassociate one activity from another. Once today’s sessions were over, both his training and the interrogations, he’d thumb through the other recent interrogation reports, as well as the ones from the field missions. From there he’d make adjustments to Green Team’s assignments while throwing others to Blue and Red teams for the insystem work, while Yellow and Orange Teams had already been dispatched to other systems to hunt down Word facilities there.
Purple Team was still standing by, waiting for a different system assignment when the interrogators had weeded out another cell from either the Masters or the Primarch, though from what David was learning the vast majority of The Word’s operations were here in Sol. The other star systems didn’t afford them a great many opportunities to establish independent bases, and with most of the extra-solar colonies being Star Force owned the security was tight enough to constrict Word operations minimal activities.
Where there appeared to be pockets of The Word in other systems was, of course, the national colonies. They were few, meaning most of Star Force’s interstellar empire was untouched by the taint of The Word, but where there was a colony, station, or ship not run by Star Force personnel, The Word would try to insert its people, extending their network of operatives out into previously untouched segments of Humanity.
Those had to be eliminated, but given the distances involved David and the special Teams were going to be hunting down Word fragments for several years to come, but most of their activities were right here on Earth, which took priority for Green Team. Only Antarctica and a few tiny territories across Earth were under Star Force control, the rest of the planet was a conglomeration of nations, and even those allied with Star Force, such as Brazil, were not immune to Word infiltration. In that way Earth had been a weak spot as far as Star Force’s intelligence division was concerned, and The Word had done well to exploit that advantage, leaving a lot of cleanup to do on the planet.
Already they’d hit 118 Word facilities, with another 52 on the to-do list, with more being added by the day as they discovered their locations through the interrogation of the Masters and Primarch, along with the tech work being done at captured facilities, giving them electronic trails to follow to even more hideouts.
The size of The Word was far larger than David had expected, and he could imagine what they’d been up to their first 100 or so years. They’d needed to establish their own infrastructure, off the grid, in order to keep Star Force from using the economy to locate them. Doing so must have been a long and tedious task, and David found it surprising they could have been so patient. Usually philosophical zealots needed to be seen and heard, but The Word had been a ghost for such a long time David wondered what else they might have been up to, and had only begun to interrogate the Primarch concerning such things.
He had discovered that anti-Star Force wasn’t their driving mandate, for they sought control and/or influence over all factions, and with their primary focus being here on Earth they had a lot of dealings with the local governments as they pried here and there. It was always clandestine, up until Davis had outed their existence, with the public swell of support being a new factor the Primarch had to work his way through.
This one, like his predecessor, had kept The Word independent from the social movement that bore its name and manipulated it as they did other threads within Human society to get the outcomes they desired. That way, nothing could be backtracked to expose the organization, though the Primarch was still wondering if it somehow had, for neither David nor anyone else had informed the prisoner how exactly he’d been exposed.
Which worked well as an interrogation technique, for the man kept running possible scenarios through his head, effectively giving David a rundown of Word facilities and operations where the breach in security might have occurred. As far as he knew, for he wasn’t monitoring the man constantly, the Primarch had never considered the possibility that an Agent might turn.
He’d considered the possibility of other personnel being captured and interrogated, but they knew so little that there wasn’t anything they had access to that could have led Star Force to the Masters or Olympus, so every time David questioned him in a way that brushed upon a new idea, the Primarch would unwittingly run it through his mind for the Archon to see, showing more memory threads for David to backtrack then or later.
All in all, it was tedious work, but it had to be done and there was no one more equipped for it than him, which was why he didn’t shirk the task. Even though he didn’t have complete control over the various operations within The Word, the Primarch did have a wealth of knowledge that no Master did, for he saw the organization as a whole while they saw merely their own slice of the big corrupt cake.
But what he didn’t know was the identity and location of all their operatives. He knew the Agents and their assignments, but who they recruited for their assignments wasn’t always known, even to their Masters, meaning there was a lot of leg work being done at the raid sites, grabbing up as many personnel as they could, bringing them back to Atlantis for the big interrogation party, and identifying who was where and doing what, though so far only a handful of Agents had been taken captive. Most of them had enough of a heads up during the assaults to get to their kill pills first.
Those cells were being rolled over by the Teams, for each Agent knew every aspect of their operation, making them the most valuable captures in finding all the rats, but in the case of those who had died it meant that those cells effectively died with them, for they could no longer function. David assumed some of the operatives would continue to carry out their orders, and perhaps even try to set up their own organizations when it became clear that their superiors had disappeared, but they wouldn’t be the threat that The Word was, given their lack of leadership, training, and resources.
That didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous and didn’t have some nasty toys in their possession, but their long-term sustainability was now gone, making this less of a clandestine war and more of a cleanup operation. The biggest threat they now faced was in missing cells and leaving an Agent in play, creating an opportunity for a new criminal organization to spawn if the Agent was so inclined to do so, making it important that David and the others find all the Agents, or at least identify them, so they could make a clean sweep of The Word leadership and eliminate their knowledge from the equation.
One thing David had been able to get from the Primarch was the total number of Agents in play, which was an astounding 2493. Each Master recruited and trained their own Agents, and as such they had varying numbers of them, with each report filed by them being filtered up to Olympus for the Primarch and his staff to keep track of.
And his staff didn’t do the lion’s share of the work, for the Primarch really did lead the Word. He was a statistician that recruited his staff from Word members in order to assist him with an insane amount of data analysis, most of which wasn’t even Word related. He had some basic security staff to safeguard Olympus, but most of the people they’d captured along with him were the data hounds that gave The Word such impressive intelligence capabilities.
That brain trust was being interrogated simultaneously, though David wasn’t directly involved, but he was seeing the reports coming out from them and used that data as interrogation points for the Primarch, spurring specific memory threads that he could then follow to new and often obscure facts that hadn’t passed through the man’s conscious mind in months, if not years.
The entire interrogation party was a team psionic effort, and David was a bit freaked out to think how hard and damn near impossible it would have been to root out The Word without psionics, now that he could see how big and professional the organization was. Star Force was a monster organization, and as such it cast a huge shadow that many could hide within, and The Word had been doing just that with extreme efficiency.
Still, if Sander Rennold hadn’t happened The Word would still be active and operating despite the Archon’s psionic interrogation techniques, underscoring not only how skilled their opponent was, but the limits that Star Force had. The larger their population grew the easier it was for individuals to hide…so long as they had proper ID. Learn where the security cameras were and weren’t, and you could hide conversations off the grid, arrange clandestine meetings and other activities, all of which there was no way Star Force security could track…not because of a inadequacy on their part, but due to the simple fact that the bigger you got the harder it was to keep track of it all.
But therein lie the disadvantage as well, for as soon as The Word or anyone else took any action of note they’d be on the grid and invite scrutiny. The Word had done well to stay off the grid, but aside from some sabotage, kidnappings, and other ‘small’ activities they’d kept quiet. Tyr was an example of a larger operation, but it was part, not of a Star Force colony, but another nation where security wasn’t so robust.
From everything David had learned from the Primarch and other prisoners, he had not seen a way for them to hobble or even slow down the mega corporation, meaning either there was some grandiose plan that he hadn’t gotten to yet within the Primarch’s mind or The Word simply didn’t have one. They survived because they hid well, but in order to take Star Force down they had to stop hiding…at which point they were doomed. All they could do was preserve the status quo and try to make tiny alterations, which Star Force had shown an almost impervious resistance to.
Even if The Word took full control over every independent nation and colony they still wouldn’t have the power to take on Star Force, militarily, economically, or even in manpower, for the majority of Humans lived in Star Force territory. Only Earth was the opposite, which was why The Word had been focusing so much effort here, David had learned.
So in the end, David acknowledged, the confrontation between Star Force and The Word had been a draw, ended by the actions of an Agent who’d essentially turned to the lightside because he had seen through The Word philosophy and recognized it for the lie that it was. So philosophically Star Force had won the war, but it still bothered David that they hadn’t been able to get at The Word’s hierarchy without help. Maybe they would have eventually, if The Word had slipped up, but given the dynamics of how the organization operated, he really didn’t see how they would have gotten to the Masters and Primarch, short of stumbling across Olympus during some Arctic construction.
Call it ‘professional dissatisfaction’ on his part, but he was certainly happy that they made good on the opportunity Sander had given them. Luck was certainly a part of the game, and while he didn’t want to make the mistake of depending on it, using it when it came your way was something he’d learned all the way back in basic training when going up against an annoying challenge that he just couldn’t seem to beat. When it finally did happen, often unexpectedly, you took it and ran on to the next roadblock in your way.
And this roadblock had been long in overcoming. He and Green Team had been assigned to The Word mission for the past 45 years, making it by far their longest assignment, one which he expected to be wrapped up on Earth within the next couple months, as far as the Archons were concerned. Once the heavy psionic lifting and base raiding was done, rounding up the rogue operatives would become a security division mission while Green Team would split up and head out to other star systems hunting the remains of The Word while Red and Blue Teams got back to their normal assorted workload for Davis.
David was looking forward to getting back out in the field, for he’d had far too much Professor Xavier work in recent days to suit him. His workouts were all that were keeping him from going stir crazy, and he was glad this current report was coming to an end so he could head off for some real work.
David, you busy?
The ranger kept typing as he answered the telepathic question coming from a few levels above his quarters.
Just finishing up a report. What’s up? he asked Rikku.
With so many of us in the city, Vermaire requested a challenge. I’m rounding up as many high levels guys as I can for a ‘king of the hill.’
How many is he giving us?
Nine.
Nine? He’s getting rather bold.
Which is why I want to stick it to him if we can. We’re set to go at it in 34 minutes.
David checked his watch, then quickly typed in a short list of topics for him to finish later.
On my way.
Good, Rikku said, sending him the telepathic equivalent of a smiley face.
David hit the save button and flicked off his computer, heading for the door. He ran out into the hallway and all the way to the nearest elevator, crossing Atlantis over to where the non-trainee challenge chambers were. He ducked into the nearest equipment room and quickly got dressed, all the while having flashbacks of going up against the Black Knight as a trainee all those years ago.
Time for a little payback.
8
David dug his knee into the padded, angled wall and dragged his falling body to a stop midway down the side of the artificial hill he’d just been tossed off of. Aeryn was below him, all the way down on the flat that surrounded the four-sided, flat-topped pyramid, and as David clawed his way back into some upward momentum Peg came flying off the top and falling towards him.
He ducked down flat, with her body missing his by inches, and there was little doubt in his mind that her trajectory hadn’t been coincidental. Vermaire had thrown her at him, hoping to knock him back down before he could get to the top again…but no such luck this time.
David got his legs back underneath himself and rushed up the 45 degree incline until his head cleared the top edge and he could see what was happening in the center of the large scoring square. The Black Knight, dressed in the same gray/tan light armor that they all were wearing to reduce the blows and allow them to fight more freely, stood a head taller than the Archons ringing him and outmassed David by a factor of 2.
A quick punch to Sev’s chest knocked him back, then Kivy dove at the Knight’s legs, trying to latch on but he wasn’t quick enough about it and missed one of them…which Vermaire then used to kick him away just as David was coming up to him. A telepathic prodding by Niles told him to jump high, which David made good on by launching himself and his flexible armor up into a jump-kick aimed at Vermaire’s chest.
The larger man dodged it easily, grabbing David by the ankle and twirling him around like a bat to smash into Aeryn who was just now coming back up the hillside. Both Archons tumbled back down and out of sight, but David’s diversion had allowed Rikku to slide in underneath the Black Knight and latch onto his legs.
David didn’t see what happened next as he and Aeryn tumbled down the side all the way to the bottom before they got themselves pried free of one another. There were nine Archons in play on the hill versus the Black Knight, who looked odd not dressed in his typical intimidating Knight armor. The light armor had been at his request, knowing that if they went at it in just their training garb he was going to have to hold back to keep from injuring them, and vice versa, and that wasn’t good for anyone when playing ‘king of the hill.’ Vermaire wanted a challenge, to be pressed, and he couldn’t do that if he was holding back.
The entire suit of armor was made of flexible pads, save for the clear faceplate that was hard and kept noses and eyes from getting busted up. The light armor was used for a variety of combat missions, usually not by Archons, but it made for an excellent training tool for when one wanted to get some rough sparring in, and the way the Black Knight went about things any challenge against him ended up that way.
He’d allowed them nine Archons, with Rikku having assembled the highest ranking group she could out of those in the city helping with the psionic interrogations, meaning high level acolytes and rangers. In order of class they were Riona-111, Kivy-188, Aeryn-412, David-441, Rikku-452, Sarah-800, Niles-803, Peg-1367, and Sev-1522, with Riona, David, Rikku, Niles, and Sev being the 5 rangers in the group and the other four being the highest ranking acolytes available, with the balance of those invited watching from the sidelines.
Rikku had assembled an all-star team, but like always the Black Knight was proving to be better than them. They’d been at this for the past 40 minutes, with the scoreboard reading 2:31 on his side and a big fat 00:00 for the Archons, meaning they hadn’t been able to remove him from the top at all, while he’d been able to keep the top square clear of them for a total of 2 minutes and 31 seconds, though he’d only managed to do that by adding up a lot of brief periods of 2 or 3 seconds each when all nine Archons had been knocked off the top.
But hell, this was fun, and there was no way any of them were going to back down, especially since they’d come close to deposing him three times over the past 10 minutes. David didn’t think his strength was wearing down, but rather the Archons were getting better acclimated to his combat skills…which were far superior to theirs.
Like all Knights, Vermaire trained exclusively for the hand to hand subdivision of commando, and with the man being older than all of the Archons he’d had centuries to focus on improving that select skillset. Nowadays he didn’t even split his time helping to train, or more accurately terrorize, the Archon trainees, for even with the stun-neutralizing component of his armor removed he was still too strong and fast for them.
Another Knight had taken his place, leaving Vermaire even more training time in the day to hone his beastly skills. He was far more than a match for any Archon, discounting psionics, trailblazers included, but against 9 of them he should have been at a disadvantage, which is why he figured the Black Knight had chosen that number of opponents.
David gently kicked Aeryn off his leg and both of the Archons jumped to their feet and climbed back up the hill just in time to see Vermaire send Rikku over the edge on the far side, with only three other Archons currently up top. Kivy had hold of the giant’s left arm and was latched onto it like a dead weight while Sev came in and tried to tackle the man across the abdomen.
It didn’t work well, but it knocked the Black Knight back a step as he knocked Sev up into the air with a raised knee…which Riona then slid under, coming up from behind him, and snaked her arms and legs through his, trying to topple him.
David and Aeryn both saw the opportunity and sprinted across the top of the hill and jumped at Vermaire as he punched Kivy away and dropped to a knee on top of Riona, smashing her into an impromptu submission hold as he grabbed Sev by the shoulders and chucked him over the side like a rag doll. David and Aeryn came flying through the air, Aeryn a step ahead, and rammed into his torso, with her snaking an arm around his neck and pivoting her body around behind his massive bulk as David torpedoed his chest with another jump-kick.
A jump-kick that came to a sudden, firm halt. Using Riona as a brace, the Black Knight had set himself against the ranger’s incoming momentum, stopping him flat and dropping him to the ground where he spun around like a cat, all the while Vermaire grabbed Aeryn’s arms as he stood up, stepped to the side away from Riona, and spun the Archon around twice before tossing her well up into the air where she fell down over the hill and out of sight.
David was back on his feet and punching at the man’s gut as he released Aeryn, getting in a quick, unanswered blow before the large arms came back down and David began backpedaling as they sparred lightning fast. He knew he had to give ground or get overwhelmed by the man’s strength, but what galled him the most was that, despite his bulk, he was just as fast as the Archons were. David suspected Riona might be a hair faster, but one on one it was no contest, meaning that he had to block and parry the heavy blows long enough for the others to get back up the hill and link up to do some kind of damage.
One of his punches resulted in Vermaire latching onto his wrist and holding him motionless for a split second, which was all he needed to kick into David’s chest and send him flying backwards across the square. The Archon dropped to the slightly padded top a meter shy of the edge, immediately regaining his footing and turning around just in time to see Riona slide back underneath the giant’s feet and wrap up his legs again…this time crumpling one of his knees enough that he lost his footing and began to fall forward just as Kivy and Peg came flying in and grabbed each of his arms.
Like a tractor pull, they dragged his torso the opposite direction, flipping him over onto his back as Niles and Sarah came in and grabbed his legs which Riona suddenly let go of. Together, the four Archons lifted the Black Knight up off the ground and walked him towards the edge, intending to chuck him off the side.
But they knew he wouldn’t go quietly, and before they got to the edge he pulled Peg in too close to his torso and head butted her in the chest just enough to off balance the acolyte and allow that arm of his to sag to the ground. The Black Knight used the dip to convulse the others out of position, then he began to kick his way free as they unwittingly dropped him to the ground two meters shy of the edge.
Once down his bulk regained its dominance and he quickly pitched Kivy over the edge with an elegant frontside scorpion kick in which he crunched up his abdomen as if he were doing a sit-up, except that his back laid flat on the ground and it was his lower body that moved upwards whereupon he extended his right leg and sent the Archon flying backwards over the edge.
Vermaire snapped his legs back down, kicking Sev as he jumped into the mix and giving himself a tiny bit of clear space on top to maneuver in as he spun around on the ground in a roundhouse kick, knocking down Aeryn as she came back up and into the fight. Then suddenly he was back on his feet taking a step in towards the middle and away from the edge the Archons had got him dangerously close to.
But that was when Riona got back under his legs again, and with Rikku’s help this time the pair was able to dump him to the ground and hold tight while he tried to kick his way free. David ran up and grabbed the man’s left wrist and pulled as hard as he could, with three of the others jumping in and grabbing what leverage points they could and yanking desperately to move both Vermaire and Riona and Rikku over the edge.
When David got his foot across and onto the angled slope he pitched himself over, trying to let gravity assist him, but the Black Knight yanked him back up with an insanely strong arm curl and threw him across Riona’s chest, tripping David up and knocking him down at the Black Knight’s feet.
The next thing he knew he saw Sarah flying by and jumping into the mess of arms and legs, then suddenly it all pitched over the side and disappeared from view.
David glanced up at the scoreboard, seeing their clock tick up a second, then two as the Archons now had control of the top now that Vermaire was off it and at least one of them stayed up top to hold it.
As he got to his feet he saw Aeryn and Niles with him, all of whom ran over to the edge and looked down the hill where they saw the Black Knight knocking his way free of the Archons and start to run back up the side…only to have Riona come at him from the left flank and dive after one of his legs, which she somehow managed to latch onto.
David didn’t hesitate when he saw the opportunity and abandoned the top, leaving the other two Archons to hold it as he charged down the hillside and jumped head first at Vermaire as he punched Riona into submission and kicked her aside. David’s momentum hit the man in the shoulder as he tried to dodge, partially succeeding, but the Archon had been moving so fast it sent him staggering back enough that he had to drop to a knee to keep from pitching over as David flew about wildly down to the bottom, accidentally knocking Rikku and Sev down like bowling pins.
But what he couldn’t see was that while the Black Knight was off balance, Aeryn was coming down the hillside behind David and she finished what he’d began, plowing into the giant and knocking him off his feet where he slid back down the hill, tossing the arrogant Archon off him and digging his knee into the padding to slow his descent. He reset himself and raced back up towards the top, fighting off two more Archon delaying attacks on the way.
When David stopped tumbling at the bottom of the hill he banged his head on the flat, stunning himself for a moment. When he shook his head clear he wobbly got back to his feet and looked up, seeing Kivy and Aeryn flying off the top, quickly followed by Riona, and David knew that the Black Knight was pissed and he was trying to quickly clear off the top to add a few more seconds to his tally.
David wasn’t going to let that happen, so even though his head hadn’t fully stopped spinning he ran up the angled padding towards one of the corners and stepped up on top, holding position rather than jumping into the fight, and laying claim to a piece of the square while the others were scrambling to get back up in time, for Vermaire was chucking them off one by one too fast for them to coordinate with each other.
Sev came up alongside David and likewise held position, then suddenly it was the two of them and Vermaire as Peg got kicked off. David and Sev split up, each heading towards opposite corners and forcing the Black Knight to chase after one of them…and he chose Sev.
The ranger ducked and dodged for several seconds, but Vermaire eventually got to him and with three quick punches distracted, disabled, and removing him from the top, then the eldest of the Knights turned around and headed for David, intent on grabbing another second for the scoreboard that now read 2:31/0:29.
Knowing that sitting on the edge was stupid, David ran forward and met him in the middle, sliding down underneath him and turtling up, not trying to fight the giant but rather trying to buy time for the others to get back up to the top. He rolled to his right, jabbing his knee into the Black Knight’s shin, moving it back an inch, then he felt a hand underneath his shoulder and suddenly he was being picked up off the floor.
David reacted quickly, twisting around and getting his own grip on one of Vermaire’s arms, not allowing him to throw the Archon so easily. Then, oddly, Vermaire dropped him and took a step back, kicking into Riona’s faceplate as she tried to dart underneath his legs and tie him up again. His kick stopped her cold, then he spun around and did the same thing to Rikku who was coming in on the opposite side, having anticipated their attacks.
What it also did was start getting the Archons reassembled on top, now with 4 of them up and another nearing the edge. Seeing this Vermaire plowed through David, knocking him aside but not off, and reset himself at hilltop center while the Archons moved around him in a circle, looking for an opening.
The Black Knight stood up to his full height and reached a hand forward, motioning them to come on with a couple of fingers, then David got a telepathic strategy from Sev, with him sending a confirmation ping back.
Rikku took off first, running three steps straight towards him, then diverting into a shallow ‘orbit’ that twisted her around to the far side. With his back turned, Peg came in as well, dropping into the circular motion and waiting for the Black Knight to strike either her or Rikku, but he didn’t. He let them move about him at a range of two meters, not taking the bait.
Then suddenly both Archons appeared to trip over their own feet and fall to the ground, with Vermaire taking both hands, balling them into fists, and beating them against his chest once as he pushed his own Fornax field out to its limits, teasing with the rest of the Archons’ balance, but they were too far away and his energy field to weak at that range to do little more than get their attention.
That does it, Riona said telepathically to the group. He’s getting it now.
David knew what she meant and smiled, lining up the Black Knight’s mind in his mental targets and preparing to send a Fornax blast back his way. Most sparring drills and challenges had a ban on psionics, aside from telepathic coordination, because they got in the way of the skills you were trying to hone. Because of that, the Black Knight’s strengths were kept intact while the Archons’ most potent weapons were deemed off limits for this king of the hill challenge.
But what Vermaire had just done by using his own, very limited psionics upgrade that the trailblazers and Davis had afforded him a number of years ago, was to disregard the ban entirely, opening up the Archons to fight at full psionic strength…and there was no way he was going to beat them at that.
A flurry of telepathic coordinating signals went out to the group from Riona, and David joined two others in throwing pinpoint Fornax blasts at the Black Knight, hobbling him to the point of shaky legs, but the big man didn’t go down…until the others combined their lachka and delivered a telekinetic punch to his chest simultaneously.
Except the ‘punch’ wasn’t a punch, but an invisible energy ball pushing the Black Knight down and across the top of the pyramid. Somehow he managed enough coordination to reach his arms and legs out and go spread eagle on the surface, making it more difficult for them to move him, but with a swift kick from Rikku to his shoulder blades the rest of them telekinetically shoved him off the top where he clung to the angled side like Garfield on a car window…until all nine of the Archons hit him with a combined Fornax blast and his nervous system was suddenly no longer under his control.
The Black Knight slid down all the way to the flat bottom as the seconds began to tick up on the scoring clock for the Archons.
David was smiling inside his clear faceplate, but then it faded as a sort of mental image of the Black Knight smiling was telepathically transmitted up to the group as the big man got to his feet and began walking up the hillside slowly. He shook for a step as one of the others hit him with a Fornax blast, but he didn’t go down, instead keeping to his steady, pounding steps as he leaned forward and crawled upwards with his hands for added balance.
Another coordination signal came from Riona and David responded with the others by hitting the Black Knight with nine simultaneous Fornax streams this time, with each of them keeping the flow of disruptive energy going. Their opponent collapsed to his elbows and knees, but somehow he managed to keep from falling over.
Then, inexplicably, his arm moved up two inches and set in place, followed by his opposite knee. Then his other arm…and other knee.
David’s gut clenched up as he continued to pour Fornax energy into the man, for somehow he was withstanding all nine of their psionic attacks and very slowly making his way up the hill.
“Son of a bitch,” Riona said out loud as she jumped over the edge and went down after him.
9
March 26, 2451
Solar System
Earth
Davis came into his office after his short morning workout and went through the priority updates his staff had laid out for him, eventually working his way down to the interrogation files that had come in over the past 24 hours. He skimmed them all, but took care to read David’s latest report from the Primarch concerning the origins of The Word.
According to the memories pulled from the man’s mind, The Word had began in the 2290s. That was far earlier than he’d guessed, meaning the criminal organization had been active on Earth for a century without him finding out…though ‘active’ was a bit of a misnomer. They had to have been keeping a low profile during all that time, but why?
As he read through the report he got a partial answer. The Word’s first priority was to establish an off the grid network so that Star Force couldn’t track them. That meant bases and resources that neither came from Star Force nor any other nation whose economy he could monitor. They wanted to build and produce everything they could in secret, and had spent many decades doing just that, supplemented by thefts to give them the material they needed.
But a century was a very long time, and he found it hard to imagine they could keep quiet for so long without at least attempting to do something of merit. Davis might have that kind of patience, but these people did not, nor did they have the longevity for it, meaning there must have been something else driving them. Something that David hadn’t gotten to yet.
As he read down through the report he came to the point where the creation of The Word was detailed, indicating that there had originally been 12 Masters and 1 Primarch from which the rest of The Word was created. That format had been derived from the Arthurian myths, with the Primarch taking the position of King Arthur and the Masters being his knights of the round table. Apparently the notes from previous Primarchs were preserved for each successor to study, allowing that single individual to maintain continuity over the years while the rest of the organization focused on present day tasks.
The concept and mandate for The Word had been set down at a clandestine summit meeting involving representatives from 6 nations. Shortly thereafter The Word had been created from volunteers that left public service in those nations, never to be seen again as they disappeared in a variety of accidents designed to get them legally dead and off the electronic grid.
The nations, by design, had no contact with The Word past that point, knowing that if even a shred of evidence was left behind Star Force would backtrack it to the source and come down hard on them. They’d concluded that being economically, militarily, and technologically outmatched, the only way they could challenge Star Force’s power was by doing so indirectly. Thus they created a criminal organization to do their dirty work for them, setting it on its path then washing their hands of it to give them deniability if it were ever exposed.
That said, they ‘allowed’ various items to be stolen from them on a regular basis, fueling The Word’s growth until it got to the point where it could steal on its own, having infiltrated operatives into various corporations and countries…including those that had founded it. As the founders in the 6 nations eventually died out, the secret of The Word died with them, erasing any last links between the two and leaving the criminal organization completely sovereign, off the grid, and in a position to do whatever it wanted.
But the Primarchs held to their mandate, which was more or less what their subordinates espoused. They were to counter the ‘degradation’ of society that Star Force was bringing with it and return Humanity to its true purpose, going back to the ‘old ways’ while embracing present day enhancements.
Davis could read between the lines, knowing that such philosophical ideology was merely a smokescreen to cover their real objective…which was to gain power. Star Force was in the way of that, and like a lot of people, they find courage and purpose in taking down whoever’s on top, without any plans for the afterward.
The Word was, admittedly, a bit more complex than that, for their philosophy was a tool they used to indoctrinate and recruit, thus it had to be more robust than a casual façade…but a façade it was, and it existed to legitimize bad behavior, something that Davis had all but eliminated from Earth over the past 500 years.
Oddly enough, Earth was the one planet that Star Force had little control of. Davis had given some moons and small planets away, such as Tyr to the Brazilians, but on Earth he had never had control, and aside from Antarctica and some small bits of land elsewhere, Earth’s landmasses were completely independent from Star Force’s oversight.
He had control of the ocean colonies and his spaceports in the various nations…which was a caveat that had allowed banned nations to reclaim their portals into space. The land that they were built on had to be ceded to Star Force, essentially creating small embassies where the local nation had no jurisdiction. As such, even China now had Star Force spaceports dotting its territories, despite the fact that the government couldn’t conduct business with the mega corporation due to its permanent ban.
Its citizens could, which was why it had ceded the small bits of territory to Star Force in exchange for the courtesy of closer placement, for the Chinese and other banned nations didn’t like having their citizenry transitioning through other countries and feeding their economies. Even though no government officials were allowed access to the spaceports, the area surrounding them boomed with ancillary economic activity, making it very profitable for the host nations to sport as many spaceports as they could coax Davis to put there.
And that wasn’t just true for the banned nations, but for all of them. While the Archons were out battling alien races militarily, Davis had been battling Human enemies back home economically and philosophically, and kicking just as much ass as they did. Using animal herds as a food supply was now gone from the planet, banned in every nation due to the fact that it was a stipulation from Star Force in order to conduct various levels of business with them.
Several nations had balked early on, but as the years passed and new generations rose up to replace those that died out the citizens in those nations gradually swayed to Star Force’s firm and steady code of conduct, aligning with it to gain their own economic advantages.
Star Force held to the sovereignty of the individual without exception, which had led to a holy political war against Islam, Christianity, and a host of other religions who placed females subservient to males. Likewise he went up against the evolutionists and ‘mother earth’ naturalistic fanatics who likewise put individuals as subservient to the planet or their species. Davis had been unbiased and relentless in his assertion that every individual, no matter who or what they were, was a sovereign entity that no one owned…and that stance hadn’t made him many friends at the outset.
But he had the leverage and the time, with society’s mood gradually changing. When a nation changed its laws to accommodate his demands they opened up new economic opportunities, with him essentially rewarding good behavior rather than punishing bad. He still held that the nations of Earth were independent from Star Force and treated them accordingly, working with them or against them, but always they were Earth, not Star Force. Star Force existed above and beyond it, an outside influence that by unspoken agreement had no territorial aspirations back home.
There was a short list of nations that were considered allies of Star Force, which Davis held to a higher code of conduct…a code that many of the others would not embrace. While they had, eventually, gotten rid of all of Davis’s ‘red flag’ practices, such as meat production, hunting, conscription, second phase abortions, forced pregnancies, forced abortions, death penalties, dismemberment penalties, circumcision of youth, gladiatorial contests, ‘lab rat’ experimentation on macroscopic races, organ transplants, ‘live’ animal food, living sacrifices, etc…they still clung to many yellow flag practices that kept them from being considered ‘allies.’
Such things like income taxes, censorship, and mandated activities were penalized by Star Force in less severe ways, but they didn’t trigger the revocation of licenses and removal of spaceports the way red flags did. By setting up code of conduct standards for the nations’ legal codes, Davis had gradually pulled the chaotic, brutal planet into a diluted version of civility…but it was still a far cry from the civilization that was present in all Star Force territories, whether they be owned colonies or free affiliates, with the result being a continual flow of people leaving Earth nations and seeking to establish homes somewhere within Star Force’s domain.
And that was the kicker of it all. The individuals in a nation had to have the option of leaving. If they didn’t that was also a red flag, because it meant a person could be trapped inside a culture and a set of rules not of their own choosing, which was, in essence, another form of slavery.
Star Force had rules, of course, but they were few and basic for the common citizenry. So long as you didn’t interfere with another individual you could pretty much live your life however you wanted, for better or for worse, and Star Force would leave you alone. That openness without acceptance, for Star Force didn’t coddle the stupid or delusional, merely letting them discover the error of their ways on their own time, was something that the nations of Earth, even Star Force’s allies, could never quite fully swallow.
They still, at their core, wanted some level of control over their citizenry, seeing them as property rather than sovereign individuals under their care. Without Star Force and Davis holding their bad behavior at bay, Earth would gradually devolve back into the mess it had been when he’d first created the space corporation.
Nowadays no one starved to death…at least if they could reach a Star Force facility of some kind, for Davis freely gave away basic foodstuffs. That in turn prompted the other nations to do the same, for economically speaking if you could get a product for free elsewhere you were quickly going to lose your customers. To assist them with the conversion, which still allowed for the sale of ‘luxury’ food items, Star Force provided the various nations with basic foodstuffs for distribution on the grounds that they remain free of charge and available to all.
That had virtually eliminated starvation from the planet, save for remote or lawless areas within the mega cities covering most of Earth’s landmasses. That was something Star Force couldn’t fix on its own, for they didn’t administer those areas, but they did keep an eye out for them and gently nudged the nation in question to fix the problem with the unnecessary threat of repercussions if they didn’t always hanging over their heads.
Still, the people suffering in those areas still had a chance if they could get themselves to a Star Force facility, whether it be a spaceport, recruitment center, food kiosk, etc. Likewise people could come to Star Force with medical problems and be aided without cost. Some nations, still greedy and unscrupulous, allowed Star Force small tracts of land to establish hospitals to service their populations in advanced medical cases, which Davis readily agreed to. While it was extremely unusual for a regenerator to have to be used, for they were still a closely guarded secret, as were all things pyramid-based, Star Force had reverse engineered enough medical tech that they could now regrow lost limbs and organs with the aid of other devices of their own manufacture.
Star Force didn’t sell those devices, but they used them to treat people that couldn’t be treated elsewhere, and given that those sorts of cases were very expensive in the local healthcare markets, the nations were more than pleased to have Star Force come in and foot the bill for them. They thought they were using Star Force, but in reality Davis was infiltrating their nations and uplifting their populations. Over time those people would come to forget the ‘old ways’ and grow used to some standards of living that would be difficult to reverse.
Money was no longer an issue for Davis, not that it had ever been important for him, but now that Star Force directly controlled 3/4ths of the Human population and his army of logistical personnel kept their supply levels optimal, currency was now no longer needed for sustenance, and had been reduced to a voluntary means of acquiring luxuries or raising your personal ownership and influence within society.
That was less true in the nations on Earth, but monetary classes had virtually disappeared in Star Force colonies. Everyone knew the echelons in Star Force were based on merit, with those at the top having to work their asses off for centuries to get there. Politicians were a joke, for the idea of choosing one’s leaders by a popularity contest simply didn’t exist within Star Force’s overly efficient empire. Some of the nations had followed their example, hybridizing their governmental structures into republics rather than democracies, but there were still some that operated off of ‘the will of the masses,’ but behind closed doors they knew that Star Force and Davis were subsidizing their foolishness.
Most nations no longer fielded militaries, for they knew Star Force would protect them if they were in the right. The ones who weren’t blacklisted used Star Force’s transportation network and resource markets to sustain their populations, without which their lack of self-sufficiency would be their undoing. Little by little over the decades since its inception, Davis had been changing Earth without conquering it, which would have been a much faster resolution to its problems.
And that had long bothered him. Should he have taken action sooner to save people he knew were suffering by taking out the governments that were allowing the suffering? He hadn’t, rather undercutting the problem by getting to some of the individuals and supplying them with what they needed or evacuating them to Star Force territory, but there had always been others he couldn’t get to unless he went in and overthrew the bad nations that were allowing and/or encouraging the suffering in the name of sovereignty…something that Davis had reinforced often.
Nowadays it was a moot point, for the most part. Many nations still sucked, but the level of depravity was nowhere what it once was, and so long as the people maintained the option of leaving and going someplace better, those that chose to stay where they were had a choice, which was enough to satisfy the sovereignty of the individual.
But Davis knew that a legal code and reality on the ground were often two separate things, so even with the wholesale improvements he’d leveraged on Earth he knew there were still people out there who were getting screwed in some way, often unseen by the media and his own intelligence division.
It was that underlying problem which had always left his dealings with the nations of Earth a bit strained. Colonies off Earth were another story, for they were all in artificial structures that demanded a different way of living, but Earth was open air and the origination point of this Human exodus out to the stars…meaning the old was still buried there, whereas a colony on Mars had to have everything built brand new.
And those nations that Davis didn’t deem worthy didn’t have colonies off Earth anymore, for his pull in the Solar System was far greater than it was on Earth, and those that had done a bad job of managing their colonies had seen those colonies confiscated, either through secession or being taken over directly by Star Force…leaving only the nations on Earth as the lingering taint on Humanity’s growing empire.
Davis had been tolerant of them, though they would have vehemently attested to the contrary, choosing to work with or through them to achieve his goals and helping those in need, whereas the Archon approach was simply to go in and take out the bad guys directly. A part of Davis had always been tempted to do that…no, not tempted. That was the wrong word. His logic had been leaning him in that direction while his past assertions had been holding him back.
He’d made promises and assurances to the nations, stating what was and was not acceptable behavior, so how could he go back on his word and seize nations that had gotten rid of all their red flags? His own logic said because people were still suffering in one form or another and Star Force could eliminate it.
Those two differing points had been bouncing around in the back of his head, lightly, for many years as he helped the nations past their own stupidity, teaching them how to do things differently and having many grow because of it…though in truth those non-allies, and even some of his allies, only did it to ingratiate themselves with Star Force rather than out of an understanding of what he was teaching/coercing them to do.
And now there was this. As he read through David’s report the names of the six nations burned into his eyes and the centuries of patience he’d been granting them, coupled with this blatant ingratitude, fueled an anger in him that he had not felt since World War III.
Before he finished reading the report he mentally set it aside and stood up, beginning to pace the circumference of his 360 degree window as he thought. Part of him was kicking himself for not doing something sooner, and he came to the realization that he had partially created his own problem.
Conditions had been so bad on Earth in the beginning that even a partial improvement seemed to be a huge accomplishment…but now, looking back on those days, he knew he hadn’t done enough. He’d been hesitant to take on the nations of Earth because of a misplaced idea of sovereignty that he had created in order to get Star Force established.
He had created the idea that Earth operated on different rules than space, that it was somehow immune to responsibility. Yes, the combatants in WWIII had lost their colonies, but they hadn’t lost their territory on Earth. At the time Davis didn’t have the resources to fight a war on Earth, at least not a clean war, and take out the bad guys directly…Archon style, he reminded himself…so he punished them instead, and used that punishment as a tool to gain traction and influence with the others. That had, in turn, allowed him to begin some of the planet-changing trends that had worked so effectively.
He hadn’t made the wrong decision back then, but it was a decision that had negative consequences that he was only now fully seeing. He had been starving corruption to death rather than killing it quickly, because killing it quickly hadn’t been an option back then in Star Force’s infancy. Now though, was an entirely different matter, and had been for years.
By the fourth lap around his office everything had become crystal clear. He’d become so focused on working the problem that he hadn’t bothered to take a step back, clear his mind, and look at the playing field. His face was down in the dirt, fighting the battles that needed to be fought…and because of that he hadn’t even noticed the game change.
That was his mistake, and he was mentally kicking himself for the duration of the fifth lap, at the end of which he sat down and opened a personnel map that detailed the location of every single person in Star Force’s employ, in this case the Archons. He refined the map down to the 100 trailblazers, seeing that none of them were in Sol at present. He zoomed out to the nearest star systems, seeing that there were a handful nearby that could be recalled within weeks rather than months.
He went through the current mission assignments, trying to pick the one that he would inconvenience the least, eventually settling on Kent-076.
He typed out a brief recall order and set it off through the network, which would quickly get it transmitted through their interstellar relays out to the adjacent Dasher System…faster than a courier ship, anyway. The signal would still take days to reach the target, but that was considerably faster than the weeks it used to take him to get messages out to his people.
With nothing else to do on the matter, Davis went back to reading David’s report. When he finished it he set the interrogation information aside and moved on to a list of 183 medium priority items he had flagged on his current docket, with his staff adding things to it throughout the day.
10
April 17, 2451
Solar System
Earth
“What’s up?” Kent asked calmly as he leapt up the circular staircase and walked into Davis’s office.
Davis smiled. “I get to see you guys so rarely nowadays. What level are you up to now?”
“Ranger 82,” the trailblazer said as he pulled up a chair and sat down.
“Have you chosen a name for the next tier yet?”
“We’re batting around a few ideas, but last I heard Morgan was still 6 levels away, so we’ve still got some time to decide.”
“It’s not like you guys to have trouble naming things.”
Kent smirked. “No, we’ve just got too many good ideas and haven’t been able to nail them down yet.”
“Any new projects you guys are working on that I need to know about?”
Kent shrugged. “We’ve always got ideas kicking around.”
“Well, I’ve got one that I need your help with,” Davis said, abandoning his desk and standing up so he could look directly out the section of window behind his desk.
“Something big, I take it,” Kent said with a slight frown as he likewise stood and walked up beside Davis with both men staring out at the Atlantis cityscape as the sun was almost directly overhead, leaving no shadows to speak of.
“We’ve captured The Word leadership, which I assume you heard.”
“Yes.”
“We’ve learned from the Primarch how the organization began. Six nations created it in order to strike at us, then severed all ties to preserve deniability. I doubt the current governments even know their own history, but they’re going to pay the penalty regardless.”
“Which is?”
“They forfeit their sovereignty.”
Kent was silent for a moment. “What six?”
“France, China, the UK, Caribbean, Turkey, and the US.”
The trailblazer whistled.
Davis nodded. “Your thoughts?”
“Just them?”
The Director sighed. “Go ahead and say ‘I told you so.’”
“I don’t recall my ever saying anything.”
“No you didn’t. You let me handle Earth while you handled everything else, and you’ve done a better job of it.”
“We had a clean slate to work with,” Kent said, understanding that by ‘you’ he meant the trailblazers.
“Not on Kirit.”
“Earth owes you a big THANK YOU, not condemnation.”
“It’s not about them, it’s about what I could have done and failed to do.”
“Randy didn’t save everyone on Kirit,” Kent reminded him. “That really bothered him, and Tom especially. Eventually they realized they had to stop reworking past problems and focus on the current ones, but the idea that you didn’t save someone you could have isn’t something that should sit well with you.”
“Ignoring those that were lost feels like a betrayal.”
“Don’t ignore them. Keep the anger and a list, then when you come across a time traveling Delorean you can go back and save them.”
Davis kept his eyes on the cityscape, but a smirk curled up the right side of his face.
“Stop considering yourself to be responsible for the fate of others,” Kent advised. “Star Force is your family and your responsibility, and as such it has responsibilities to you. Others do not, and the blame for their fate isn’t on you at all. If you deny them responsibility for themselves, then they have no sovereignty. If they do, then they are responsible for themselves. Randy didn’t cause the Kiritas to have problems, he was the solution…and you have to make certain you don’t blur the two together.”
“But to stand by and watch while people suffer when you have the ability to stop it…”
“Tom said the same thing. He didn’t have enough foodstuffs to feed everyone, so he had to prioritize. If he reduced rations to some he could have saved others, but then how far should he have gone? He needed a section of the population healthy and working to increase their foodstuff production. There were people right in front of him who were starving to death that he could have shared his own foodstuffs with and didn’t. Why didn’t he?”
“He had to keep training.”
“Why?”
“That’s a dumb question, especially for an Archon.”
“Is training more important than someone’s life?”
“He shouldn’t have to suffer for someone else’s problems.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” Kent pointed out.
“My gut says both answers are wrong. You don’t ignore the person when you have the ability to save them, but at the same time you don’t compromise yourself.”
“So what do you do?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“They didn’t either for a long time, but eventually they figured it out.”
“Please share,” Davis prompted.
“They’re Archons. They’re going to help someone if they’re in need, period, so the question is a trick of fate that seems designed to try and get the Archon to choose to not be himself. Or as Paul would put it, choose to turn to the darkside.”
“That’s exactly what it feels like.”
“But like all trick questions, the solution lies in understanding the error in the way the question is stated. Randy and Tom felt responsible for the Kiritas, but they weren’t. So long as they weren’t causing the suffering, they could stand by and watch without interfering if they chose. They didn’t have to save anyone. Now, they couldn’t live with themselves if they stood by and did nothing when they had the power to do something, but everything they did from the point they got there was bonus points. They couldn’t go negative, because the lives of the Kiritas weren’t their responsibility.”
“I see the distinction, but it still doesn’t sit well.”
“No it doesn’t. Randy and Tom wouldn’t be satisfied unless they saved everyone, which was why they had to force themselves to keep their own rations separate from the Kiritas, else they would have scrimped and diminished themselves to save as many as they could, all the while kicking themselves for not saving more. It was driving them crazy, and after a while they just had to shut it out and focus on one piece of the problem. That wasn’t betraying the others, just acknowledging that they couldn’t help them…and if they couldn’t help them, there was no need for them to watch.”
“Turn a blind eye?”
“To the emotions that serve no purpose, yes. You will never tolerate suffering. It will always bother you if you’re a good person.”
“But I could have done something different. I wasn’t limited by supplies.”
“Such as?”
“Take over Earth.”
“Why didn’t we?”
Davis sighed. “Because I outlined a basic code of conduct for the nations that was far better than their previous behavior, but not good enough. And now that they’re in compliance with my own demands, how do I justify punishing them for that compliance?”
“Do you expect a rookie to do the work of a veteran?”
“No.”
“At some point the rookie becomes the veteran. When do the expectations change?”
Davis closed his eyes and leaned forward, banging his head against the clear window in a ‘doh’ moment.
“How do you guys get so smart?”
“We bounce ideas off each other, and there are 100 of us…but there’s only one of you.”
“Unfortunately,” Davis said, pulling his head away from the glass.
“What do you want me to do?” Kent asked, finally looking over at the slightly shorter, but equally trim man.
“The Word killed a lot of our people, and as such the nations that created it struck against us in a way they thought would insulate them from reprisal. They thought wrong. Take them out, annex their territories.”
“Surprise or forewarned?”
“How much trouble is forewarned going to be for you?”
“If you give me time to set things up beforehand, it won’t be a problem. If you need to berate them immediately I can still make it work.”
“Can you make it bloodless?”
“On our part, yes. But I can’t guarantee anything against their stupidity.”
“Their countries must suffer responsibility for their actions…not the present day individuals.”
“Clean capture is possible if handled carefully, but we won’t be in full control. Some idiot with a rocket launcher shooting at us could miss and hit civilians. That part we can never control.”
“Try to lock down as much stupidity like that as you can, but it’s our weaponsfire that I’m concerned about.”
“We won’t kill anyone that’s not shooting at us,” Kent promised.
“Can you capture the ones that are?”
“To a point, yes.”
“This has to be completely clean.”
“Then a direct assault isn’t the solution.”
“I sense a suggestion forming,” Davis noted sarcastically.
“‘Take them out’ can mean a lot of things. Define it more specifically.”
“Take possession of their countries.”
“To do that we have to acquire and hold select infrastructure, not battle their military. While that will happen if they choose to resist, if we can get to ground first and secure targets, it’ll be them attacking us, not the other way around.”
“Better, but that’s not a full solution if we’re having to shoot them down.”
“We won’t have to,” Kent said with a smirk.
“Explain to the kindergartener please.”
“We can take their personnel down with stingers easy enough, it’s their aircraft that are the problem. We disable them and they crash. But if we deploy shield generators and ward off their attacks long enough they’ll run out of ordinance and fuel. If we quietly take out their refueling capabilities we can neutralize them without having to destroy them.”
Davis smiled broadly. “That’s why I’m not an Archon. That never even occurred to me.”
“We’re both problem solvers. Your economic prowess surpasses ours.”
“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t count you guys out in any contest.”
“Wise.”
“Can you do this?”
“You mean without us becoming the bad guys? Yes, I can. But it will take a while to set up.”
“Tell me what you need.”
“I need a distraction…and an eyeball.”
Davis frowned, not sure what he was saying.
“Guess you haven’t seen that movie.”
“Apparently not. Which one?”
“The first Avengers.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Iron Man, Thor, Hulk, Captain America?”
“All in the same movie?”
“Yeah. Looks like you’ve got some homework to do.”
“Indeed,” Davis said, mentally adding the movie to his to-do list. The more Archon references he was aware of the better. “In the meantime, translation please?”
“None needed. It was a joke. I’ll have to assemble equipment and personnel to hit all sites simultaneously, even if we don’t end up handling it that way. That means a lot of recalls from outside Earth or using a handful of veterans along with a mass of rookies.”
“Can you get by with the personnel in this system?”
“More than enough, but getting them all here isn’t going to happen overnight, and I’m going to need target lists for each country, including up to date intelligence on their military units and locations.”
“A lot of prep work then?”
“When were you planning on letting them know?”
“The Word has been captured without public knowledge, so there’s no timetable to work off of. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
“And what about the rest of the planet?”
“You had to pass a series of tests to become an Archon, and just about every other Star Force member has had to do the same. It’s time the nations of Earth had theirs.”
“And the independent colonies?”
“I’ll write up a protocol outlining the basic requirements of sovereignty that will apply to everyone. If a nation, colony, or faction doesn’t measure up they’ll forfeit back to Star Force. We’ll reorganize and fix the problem through some sort of arrangement or fully annex them. It’ll also provide a framework for splinter nations to gain legitimacy. You probably aren’t aware of the number of requests we get to recognize independence?”
“Not all of them, but I do know that a lot of loose colonies are out there.”
“We even get requests to declare a ship a sovereign nation. So many people are eager to create their own little empires without a clue to the responsibilities that entails. It’s time I laid it out for them.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t already.”
“I guess I have been piecemeal, but I’ve been making one very large mistake that you’ve just opened my eyes to. I’ve been respecting the original group of nations as peers without treating them as such. Not one of them would be doing what it needed to without Star Force leverage, which a true peer would. That means we have no peers, just children to babysit. Children that I’ve been giving adult privileges to. They’ve had more than enough time to learn and grow, so now we test them. Those that pass will gain a level of freedom equal to their skills, with total anonymity reserved only for peers.”
“So we are taking over the planet,” Kent said with a satisfied smile.
“They won’t like it. And I’m pretty sure our allies aren’t going to be too keen on it either, but give them a route to full anonymity and a few of them might chase it. As for everyone else, they’re going to rant and rave about me having too much power…”
“Tough,” Kent summed up pithily.
“It’s amazing how simplistic you guys make everything.”
“These governments and people you’re worrying about are all kids that we’re protecting from the lizards and all other manner of threats. They get no say until they show some skill.”
“Would you like to give the speech?”
“My speeches often involve physical stimuli, so talking into a camera is somewhat limiting my communications capability.”
Davis shook his head slowly. “I sooo miss having you guys around.”
“Nothing like planning a global takeover to get the band back together,” Kent quipped. “This will also diminish the likelihood that another Word will rise up, won’t it?”
“That thought crossed my mind about two minutes ago. Yes, it will. They won’t have any more political holes to hide in. Until a nation reaches full sovereignty, if that ever happens, Star Force security will have a presence in all territories. That won’t guarantee an end to covert criminal organizations, but it will make it a lot harder for them to hide in the shadows.”
“We got lucky, didn’t we?”
“Sander?”
Kent nodded.
“Yeah we did,” Davis admitted. “The Word gambled everything on maintaining the security of a handful of leaders. Had Sander not turned and given us a thread to follow, it would have been virtually impossible for us to find them short of their making a mistake. Now, their gamble has allowed us to sweep them up rather easily without making us work for it, but given their position they made a strategically effective choice. Someone else could do so again.”
“Most of their facilities were on Earth, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Make them play on our turf and security will own their asses.”
“It’s not quite that simple, but you’re mostly accurate.”
Kent crossed his arms over his chest as he watched a dropship landing on a pad nearby, but out of sight behind several lower buildings. “Face it…if I wanted to bypass security and create a covert organization under your nose I could do it. It’s just a matter of finding the cracks.”
“But?”
“But the size of the crack matters. Eliminate all the big ones and there won’t be room to build an organization large enough to do what The Word did. And security can handle the little ones…in most cases. And you’ve got Archon teams for the others. Uniting Humanity will come with the added benefit of making a lot of lingering problems go away.”
“While ticking off a lot of people in the short term.”
“Just outlive the protestors,” the 430 year old Archon said dismissively.
“A common solution we seem to employ.”
“That or a stinger.”
“We also seem to use a lot of those. Tell me, how long is it going to be until we can abandon the paint?”
“When the techs get a superior weapon built. Right now stingers are more reliable…and familiar.”
“Still a far cry from what the V’kit’no’sat have at their disposal.”
“We don’t know what they’ve got now,” the Archon pointed out.
“That’s an even cheerier thought.”
“If we’re going to die, they’re going to have to do the killing, because we’re not falling on our sword. Focus on cleaning house and increasing our strength, then we’ll see what the future brings.”
“We should have done this a long time ago.”
“We’ve been busy,” Kent reminded him, “but yeah, we should have.”
Both men stood watching the flight traffic coming and going from Atlantis for a few seconds, with Davis content that they were making the right decision.
“Don’t call me Palpatine,” he warned.
“Wasn’t even thinking about it, Loki.”
“Who?”
“Watch the movie,” Kent said with a lingering smirk.
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1
February 21, 2452
Solar System
Earth
70 miles off the Virginia coast where the underwater Norfolk Canyon cut into the edge of the continental shelf that significantly shallowed the Atlantic Ocean prior to making landfall, a large bulge of water pushed up into the cold winter whitecaps, forming a small tsunami that would dissipate before reaching the coast. Underneath the quickly rising dome of water was a Star Force aquatics battleship transitioning into ‘airship’ mode and heading towards the Unites States on anti-grav, but it wasn’t alone, for alongside and behind it, coming up from the submerged canyon, 18 additional battleships took to the air, leaving the ocean beneath them a churning mess as they quickly disappeared from view.
Flying together like a pack of aerial whales the warships crossed the 180 mile stretch up to the American capitol coming under fire from squadrons of US F-834 fighter jets, but their missiles and plasma cannons couldn’t penetrate the battleships’ thick shields, nor could the anti-air turrets on the ground. The aquatics warships bullied their way through the defenses up to Washington DC, then spread out across the sky over the city, picking off automated defense batteries with their onboard plasma cannons as they one by one flew low over the small Tidal Basin that sat between the Potomac River and the White House.
There each battleship dropped large chunks of machinery into the shallow water before cycling off to form a slowly drifting formation in the sky over the panicking local population. When the last of the battleships deposited its cargo it held position, modulating its shields away from the underside hull and extending them down like a dome over top of the lake-like basin.
Once that protective energy barrier was in place, thin as it was, scores of personnel began dropping out of the hull and down into the water. The aquatics specialist Archons rode their wrist and ankle jets, spreading out to the perimeter of the Tidal Basin where they held position just under the water’s surface, waiting to act as a defensive line should any local troops come over ground and poke their way through or under the shield.
Behind them engineers came down and boarded the large chunks of equipment, some of which sprouted construction mechs than stepped down into the 3 meter deep water and began pulling the large pieces of equipment apart or repositioning them into the proper arrangement that the battleships more or less laid them out in. Using their large mechanical arms, the mechs put the giant ‘Lego’ pieces together over the next hour while the city streets quickly emptied, leaving the capitol more or less a ghost town.
No soldiers or police approached the Tidal Basin, for they were either bunkered up inside the city buildings or running away with the hordes of road vehicles packing the highways and the already scattered hovering vehicles that ignored traffic regulations and zipped off across the cityscape in whatever direction they thought would get them to safety.
The floating battleships ignored them, holding position while the one over the Tidal Basin hurried through the construction of a city-sized bubble shield generator. With a fixed geometry, unlike the battleships’ shields that could modulate their matrix and form multiple shapes as needed, the bubble shield was Star Force’s most robust and efficient shield. The amount of equipment needed to build a proper surface generator was massive, which created a problem for mobile units by limiting their size and strength.
By using a bubble shield they minimized the volume of equipment needed, but the tradeoff was they couldn’t get a surface seal, meaning the shield would cover the sky but not come down to touch the ground as the battleship’s shield currently was surrounding the Tidal Basin. It would be low enough to block aircraft from entering the dome, but not ground troops, meaning a land assault was still possible…but in this case it was actually preferred, making the bubble shield the perfect tool for a quick city grab.
When the generator was finally assembled beneath the low hovering battleship, it set up a hemispherical cap over the city, stretching out to a diameter of 12 miles and covering the US capitol building, the White House, the Pentagon, and many other key governmental buildings in the never ending cityscape that stretched hundreds of miles along the east coast. The edge of the shield dome hung in ghostly blue hue just over the building tops, visibly marking the barrier so no aerial traffic or high floating anti-grav vehicles would mistakenly ram it…as well as to symbolically mark Star Force’s new turf.
Once the primary shield was up the other 18 battleships settled down to the ground in various locations and began disgorging troops, Archons, Knights, and Regulars in large numbers, each with their own objectives and armed with a massive amount of stun weapons, for their objective was to capture the city, not to destroy it.
Amongst those troops were Senpan-142117, who had the honor of dropping down onto the White House roof along with a team of other adepts while a pair of Star Force combat mechs were set down on the south lawn, drawing most of the attention from the secret service and other limited defensive staff that were wisely staying inside the building, though a few did stupidly fire their sidearms at the mechs, with the tiny plasma spurts doing little more than scratching the paint on their armor.
The ineffectual attack did grab the attention of the madcat pilot, who twisted his mech around on its bird-like legs until its arms faced the windows where the fire was coming from, then it unleashed what looked like a shotgun blast of pink energy shards into the building, blanketing multiple windows in stun energy, some of which saturated the walls so much that it actually numbed the shoulder of a man leaning against one on the inside.
After that no more return fire came, and the madcat and thor set up in guard positions out front while Senpan’s team broke in at multiple points and began neutralizing all personnel they came across with green stinger paint splatters, most of which ended up on the unconscious personnel rather than the walls…though the same couldn’t be said of the secret service’s return fire that set pictures and other accoutrements hanging on the walls on fire.
Senpan had come in from the north side of the west wing, eventually making his way across the office spaces where the President’s staff did most of their daily work, finding only a few of them present and hiding while secret service and an assortment of other guards occupied most of the Archon’s time. Room by room he cleared the wing, ending up in the oval office that was likewise empty.
He walked around the curvy perimeter, checking all three exits/entrances before making his way out onto the porch and exiting through the southern greenhouse where he got jumped by three more guards. After stunning them into submission he tagged the west wing as ‘clear’ on his battlemap and retreated into the office area where he took up a roaming patrol in case personnel from other areas of the White House might migrate back in response to the other members of his team pushing through the rest of the building or in the unlikely case of a counter assault occurring, though with DC’s network of subterranean structures it was possible that there could be reinforcement coming from underground, bypassing the mechs outside.
To that end the adept kept on guard, roaming around the west wing and gradually policing the bodies, which eventually ended up in the Cabinet Room, while the other adepts on this small portion of the overall assault on the city cleared the main residence and east wing, including the subterranean bunker complex…but the President wasn’t among them, nor his family. Apparently they’d gotten out prior to the attack.
That wasn’t Senpan’s team’s concern though, for they didn’t need the politicians, just the real estate.
Back in Atlantis, Kent was overlooking a large holographic map of the United States in a much larger operations center than the White House sported. This one was the size of three basketball courts, with the centerpiece of it all being the main holoprojector, which currently showed an image of the continental states along with non-geographical cutouts for the remaining 5 states on the uncharacteristically flat image.
Kent had it displayed that way, rather than showing the curve of the Earth, because the board was monitoring the 23 incursion points, each of which had numerous objectives that he wanted to be able to be advised of at a glance.
A flashing icon over Washington DC indicated an update coming in, one of hundreds over the past few minutes, and Kent glanced down at the flat topped worktable he was standing at to see the ‘White House secured’ update, with that tiny piece of the city filling in with a blue highlight on a secondary map along with a scattering of others, but most targets had yet to be neutralized given the sheer size of the city and the limited number of personnel Kent had assigned to it.
Simultaneous ‘capture and hold’ assaults were taking place at New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston, Miami, Phoenix, San Diego, San Antonio, Jacksonville, Indianapolis, Columbus, Denver, Portland, Minneapolis, Atlanta, Sacramento, Las Vegas, Oklahoma City, Seattle, San Juan, Detroit, and Dallas as Star Force was choosing to hit the United States first out of the six countries that had been tabbed for annexation, hoping to convince the others to simply submit rather than face similar assaults.
Personally, Kent didn’t expect China to submit, but they were going to get a chance to think it through as they watched the US assaults, for Davis had chosen to keep the media outlets in the loop during this invasion, letting everyone across the Earth and Solar System monitor it live as the assaults went down.
They didn’t know it was coming, nor did anyone, for Kent had hidden his troops well, but the declaration of the forfeiture of sovereignty had been issued by Davis three days ago, with all six nations issuing adamant refusals…who were quickly backed by almost every other nation on the planet when the Director went on to explain the ‘verification testing’ that all countries would be subjected to in the coming years. Only four stood by Star Force in their silence, with the others banding together with such a unanimous decrial that many pundits were suggesting that Davis had finally gone too far and would have to submit to the will of the planet and back down from his demands.
Kent imagined they were having a moment of epiphany right about now as the news vids caught up with what was happening and fed images of the assaults on the American cities out to billions of people in the neighboring countries. Political opinion was useless against physical equipment, and as the American military began to respond to the invasion, it being the largest and most powerful of the now rebellious nations, most of whom had no military whatsoever, Kent was monitoring the deployment of their combat units away from their bases and towards the besieged cities.
All 23 sites now had their shield generators in place and operational, keeping the American air assets out of the equation. A few had launched light assaults against the shields, testing their strength, but they eventually abandoned the attacks given the calculated ordinance necessary to penetrate the energy barriers and the collateral damage they would do if they broke through and fell on the city below.
Now turtled up inside the shields, Kent’s assault forces were securing buildings and rounding up stunned personnel while allowing the fleeing citizenry out if they wished. They weren’t in a hurry, but were establishing a safe zone inside each city and expanding it out, street by street, intent on working their way out towards the shield barrier and making the captured cities theirs.
Or that’s what it appeared to be. With local media allowed to continue transmitting without being jammed or captured, the American military and the rest of the Solar System watched in detail as the efficient and overly armored Star Force troops made quick work of securing key installations and spreading out their containment zones. As they did that the Americans were organizing counterstrikes on a handful of cities, intent on walking their ground troops underneath the shield edge and engaging the invaders underneath their own protective dome.
Which is exactly what Kent wanted. His troops could handle the Americans with ease, and had been equipped with special weapons to handle the mechanized troops without killing them, and the same went for their vehicles while the shield would keep their aircraft out of the equation. For the coastal cities the American water navy was in a bad position, for Star Force owned the oceans and could take them out at any point they wanted.
They made the mistake of assaulting the shield dome over San Diego from the water, and succeeded in temporarily penetrating the energy barrier, dropping several shells onto their own people within the city before the ships sitting off shore suddenly saw a mass of mechanical tentacles popping up out of the water and wrapping around the American ships. The tentacles snapped off their weapon batteries, gouging out cuts and scrapes all over their armored hulls, then released them, disappearing back underwater and reappearing beneath other ships.
Some of the American ships had subsurface weapons, which the source of the tentacles had to disable, which resulted in hull punctures. Automated seals popped into place, keeping the ships afloat, but Rikku, who was overseeing the aquatics operations from the same command center that Kent was working out of, didn’t take the chance of one of them sinking and ordered the Kraken-class cruisers to remove them from the ‘bathtub’ altogether.
The mass of tentacles reappeared along the sides of those ships, with a few wrapping around the top as they took hold of them from below and lifted them up into the air via anti-grav, exposing the mechanical monsters lurking beneath the water.
The cruisers looked like sea creatures, each with six legs and two massive arms that ended in a bouquet of tentacles that were wrapping up the elongated American ships that were about a third smaller than the kraken. Both floated low over the waves, with the Star Force aquatics warship bringing the American ship to the shore and depositing it on the beach more or less upright as it landed in the water alongside. Gradually its tentacles withdrew, pushing here and there to position the ship correctly, then it walked back out into the Pacific and sunk beneath the waves as its twins deposited the other damaged American ships up and down the water’s edge.
Kent rather liked those visuals, which the news vids were blasting across their networks. They didn’t know Star Force possessed such ships, let alone could own the American navy in such an impertinent way, which made the irony of the attacks that much sweeter. All across the coverage that more and more people were becoming glued to were instances of Star Force coming in and taking what they wanted, seemingly unstoppable, but without them killing a single person and in many instances, such as the grounding of the water ships, deliberately preserving the life of those who were fighting them.
That point, Kent knew, was critical, for even before the nations could hope to spin the events to their favor the people were getting the raw footage and seeing the care Star Force was taking to secure their targets even as the American military deployed to counter them.
Which was where the next phase of the plan was taking place…this one off the news vids. As the American military bases sent out their counterattacking forces, Archon teams preplaced nearby were moving into position to quietly hit those bases and neutralize their refueling/rearming capability. Red and Blue teams were among more than 1300 high level Archons split up into small teams to conduct their sabotage that was scheduled to begin in a matter of hours.
Once they took out their targets, nipping at the bases rather than trying to capture them, the American troops already deployed in the field would have a time limit on their battle readiness, after which this invasion would essentially be over. Without the ability to refuel and rearm, the mechs and vehicles would run dry and grind to a halt, while their infantry would end up as target practice for Star Force’s own mechs and ground troops as they stunned them en mass.
Their aircraft would expend their fuel and land…only to find no operational refuelers, essentially grounding the craft without them taking any damage. The military would try to secure civilian supplies to compensate, but Kent had taken that into consideration and had tertiary teams already staking out those supply depots, ready to secure/disable them when the time came.
Until then his forces simply had to hide out underneath the bubble shields, taking their time securing their target cities and holding off the ground troops when they arrived, which Kent was confident they could do without problem. While Star Force’s military power was unquestioned by Earth, the planet hadn’t seen them in action for centuries. What happened out on the lizard front was ‘covered’ by the media in the form of basic reports Star Force sent them, meaning Earth had no idea how powerful the Archons and their troops really were, though they were getting an education at present.
As he watched, more tiny sectors in the cities flicked over to blue as the Americans clumsily assembled their troops and sent them their way from exterior military bases, with those bases inside the target cities having been hit a matter by saboteur squads moments before the main assaults began.
Those attacks had been the most tenuous, with Kent assigning his best troops to them, and to their credit they’d completed their missions without incident, keeping the aircraft on the ground and disabling many of their mechs and vehicles before they could take to the city streets.
Everything was going as planned, with what would end up being two weeks of attitude adjustment on the part of the Americans as Star Force demonstrated time and again how outmatched they were. Eventually it was the city mayors who began surrendering, followed by a handful of states while the President kept organizing the national government’s resistance to the Star Force invasion from a series of hidden locations around the country.
He soon became little more than a talking head as more and more cities surrendered, most of which hadn’t seen a single Archon within their borders, followed up by a handful of military units that hadn’t yet been captured/engaged. Over the following month a landslide of surrenders came forth as the previously unseen divisions within the country fragmented and the often rebellious Americans started making their own decisions once the President and Congress were seen to be out of the loop.
Both of those political entities didn’t submit, taking to hiding in various locations to keep the country alive even as Star Force brought in millions of personnel to take control over infrastructure and begin setting up the transitional government that would oversee the total deconstruction and transformation of the nation into a proper Star Force territory.
2
January 1, 2454
Solar System
Earth
Jessica Avril stepped out of the side exit of the Star Force mantis that had flown her out to Atlantis, walking down an extendable ramp until she hit the dry tarmac with her elevated heels clicking on the surface as she walked over to the security detachment waiting for her, but her eyes were drawn upward into the Atlantis sky where the rain was falling hard and slicking the top of the defense shield covering the city. The water ran down the dome as if it were glass, depositing off the sides into the turbulent ocean as the storm she’d just flown through raged on…yet here on the city’s surface the air was calm and dry, something she appreciated, not wanting to have to walk through the rain to get to the nearby terminal.
As her escorts took her indoors she wondered just how much power Star Force was wasting to keep the rain out, but she didn’t criticize the existence of the shields, whose presence made her feel as if she were standing on the safest place on Earth. Little did she know how wrong she was, for the safest locations lie in secret beneath the oceans, but as for surface cities she was correct, though she didn’t understand the full depth of defenses the Star Force capitol contained…nor did anyone else outside of Star Force.
Jessica wore a trim skirt and matching top, one of the uniform variants New Zealand governmental staff sported, but the heels were her own addition. They were illogical and detrimental to walking…but they were so attractive she couldn’t stand not to wear them, so she clicked her way inside the terminal and all the way across the magnificent city to her temporary quarters where she was given a few hours before she was due to appear for a ‘verification’ meeting on behalf of her home country.
Ever since the 6 nations that had formed the criminal organization known as The Word had been eliminated from the political map and annexed into Star Force territory with no identity or autonomy remaining, for which the Americans and Chinese fought them over, to no avail, the rest of the nations on Earth had undergone a severe amount of scrutiny. Star Force security had established a presence in each country to deal with the riots and other malcontents, though there had been none in New Zealand and a few other more enlightened nations, but the security presence had come to them as well.
Other logistical outposts were established where Star Force spaceports didn’t already exist, tying each nation to Star Force in a way that had once been unconscionable, but after seeing how easily Star Force took down the Americans most people took the cue to back down and submit, with the Chinese being the only government to actively rebel, but even knowing that Star Force would be coming for them didn’t stop the Archons from cutting up China into bits and pieces over the course of a year and a half, eventually squeezing the governmental sectors out of power as they took the rest of the massive country literally out from under its former rulers.
Oddly most of the Chinese people favored Star Force’s takeover, as did a majority of the Americans, but it had been made clear that their favorable opinion didn’t matter in the slightest to Director Davis, who seemed intent on claiming the entire planet for himself. Jessica knew there was more going on than that, for New Zealand had always had close ties to Star Force and in the past he’d respected their sovereignty…up until now. Star Force was positioning itself for a takeover of her homeland, but what she didn’t understand was why they were balking when it was clear they had enough military might to take whatever they wanted.
No, as much as people wanted to think this was some imperialistic takeover, Jessica and the New Zealand government knew that wasn’t the case. Star Force personnel had been analyzing every facet of their country, insisting it was for the purposes of the ‘verification’ that Davis had announced a few years back would be occurring for every nation on Earth, and those that didn’t measure up to the needs of their people would lose their sovereignty as the price for their failure. New Zealand wasn’t in danger of that, so Jessica and her country weren’t overly worried about the outcome of the verification, just curious as to where all of this was going.
Given that she only had a few hours downtime, Jessica took off her glorious heels and uniform, kicking back on the couch in her underwear as she flipped on the wall-mounted vid screen. The flight out from New Zealand hadn’t been overly long, but she’d been awake a good 6 hours before that and in the same set of clothes the entire time and she didn’t want them to get any more ‘lived in’ than they already were. Her assignment had come with instructions not to pack, so she guessed she wouldn’t be staying here long, otherwise she would have brought along a personal bundle with a change of clothes, but for now she was just going to have to make do.
Jessica bypassed the news feeds and pulled up a three year old movie that she had never gotten around to seeing and settled in, having been told not to leave her quarters. Apparently Atlantis was under guard to outsiders, a far cry from the old days when it was a major tourist center. As it was, she was probably one of the lucky few to gain access to the city nowadays, though it was never clear what Star Force was up to, given that they didn’t permit news vid crews in a lot of places, including Atlantis.
She was disappointed not to get to look around, but drowsy enough that when she caught herself nodding off during the movie she conceded that taking a tour of the place might not have been the best of ideas. Knowing that she needed to be on the top of her game for whatever Star Force had asked her here for, Jessica decided to wake herself up with a shower that the quarters thankfully had and lingered there for the better part of an hour before redressing in her original clothing and finishing up most of the movie before her escorts returned.
Slipping on her painful, yet beautiful heels, she followed the pair of guards through hallways full of Star Force personnel crisscrossing about in an almost chaotic fashion, but with a relaxed feel of people who knew what they were doing and going about a routine as opposed to normal pedestrian traffic. She wondered if a shift change had just occurred, because there were far more people moving about than there had been when she arrived, but then again they were taking her into a different section of the city, passing from one elevator car to another, leaving her completely unaware of her location.
Yet another reason why it was a good idea that she had escorts, otherwise she could have genuinely gotten lost.
As they walked she looked around at the faces passing her, not seeing a single old or fat person amongst them. In their identical uniforms they looked almost like clones, save for the color variations. While New Zealand uniforms were all based around the same color motif, with that being a checkered red/white, Star Force uniforms were solid colors denoting which branch of the mega corporation each individual belonged to, and the sea of people around her varied wildly with the most common color being red, which she knew to belong to their logistics division.
That would make sense, given that Atlantis was the hub of their economy, or perhaps she should say controlling hub, for as far as she knew it wasn’t a heavy cargo terminal. It was mostly administration, she’d been told, but by people outside of Star Force, so who knew what they were really up to nowadays.
It wasn’t the largest Star Force city, not by a long shot, but it was the most well-known and right now she felt conspicuously out of place amongst its people. Normally she walked the city streets of New Zealand, feeling an air of superiority due to her status as one of the few individuals within the government that had achieved self-sufficiency, with her 77 years of age putting her on nearly superstar status within the country, but here she felt tiny and almost embarrassed. These people she was passing were probably all older than her, some by more than a century, and each of them had worked their way up through the years to warrant a position in Atlantis, making them the best and brightest Star Force had to offer.
Then there was her, walking with two escorts like a child who didn’t belong from a country that appeared as a mere spec against Star Force’s mass. It was a turnabout she hadn’t expected, and despite herself she could feel a bit of a blush on her face as she passed more and more people, all of which looked like fashion models but none of which were wearing heels. If she could have, Jessica would have flipped them off and walked barefoot, for now they felt stupid and she could see the eyes of those around her looking down at them, followed by an occasional laugh.
Star Force valued functionality in clothing, and her heels were the exact opposite of that…not to mention noisy.
When they came to another elevator Jessica and her two guards boarded it alone and zipped off across another section of city, with her in the back of the car standing behind them. She glanced at the back of their heads, then dipped down and slipped off her shoes, picking them up and scrunching down the elegant straps into as compact of a wad as she could, which she held in her right hand against her side as they walked out.
Both guards turned back when they didn’t hear the telltale clicks of her heels, but after a quick glance down at her feet, then her hand, they ignored the now shorter woman and continued to lead her through the traffic, with Jessica grinding her teeth together trying to suppress the awkwardness of the moment, but she received no more looks from passersby at her feet, which she was grateful for.
After two more elevator hops and a lot more walking the hallway traffic thinned out and she was brought into what looked like a higher level administrative section, through which her journey ended at a conference room with a few other people already inside and its own pair of guards silently standing by in their enormity and pure white armor, both of which she knew meant they were Knights.
“This is you,” one of her escorts said, pointing her inside while they remained in the hallway.
“Thank you,” Jessica said graciously as she walked in, immediately feeling better when she saw the other four people were Star Force outsiders like herself. They were seated around a large ovoid table that had seats for forty, none of which were marked, so Jessica sat down along the right side, giving a nod to a woman three spots down from her.
“Long walk?”
Jessica reddened a bit more. “Very. Do you know why we’re here?” she asked, curious to find out and eager to change the subject from her shoes, which she dumped on the floor beside her feet, both of which were now under the table and out of view.
“No, they told us nothing. Aside from the list of candidates. Who are you here for?”
“New Zealand…and you?”
“Russia. I’m surprised you couldn’t guess by the accent.”
“You barely have any,” Jessica said as another person entered through the door, and she just caught a glimpse of his own pair of guards/escorts disappearing down the hall past the Knights.
“Thank you. It seems as more years go by my mastery of English increases.”
Jessica smiled in response, but didn’t continue the conversation any further. More people were entering the conference room and sitting down, probably being summoned from their own sets of temporary quarters like she had been, though it was hard to imagine any of them having to have come from further away, given the distance that she walked to get here.
She sized them up as they came in, seeing that they were all visibly ‘young,’ though in her case that didn’t hold true. How many of them had attained self-sufficiency she couldn’t know, for while it wasn’t uncommon amongst the non-Star Force nations it wasn’t prevalent either. Her name had been given along with 36 others from New Zealand to her government to choose a representative from, with the instructions being someone that they had full confidence in, both in terms of honesty and skill. Someone that they could trust as an emissary between Star Force and their nations to deal with the verification issues that would be forthcoming.
Jessica assumed the reason she was on that list was due to her experience and self-sufficiency, but in truth it could have been any number of reasons. Star Force hadn’t been forthcoming on the details, but by choosing the list of candidates she assumed they wanted her for a reason…which made her poor shoe choice even more embarrassing, for she wanted to live up to the compliment they had given her.
Beyond that, she was here to represent New Zealand. What they would need a second ambassador for she didn’t know, and had been pondering that question ever since being selected by her government. She got the feeling she was about to find out within the next few minutes, but after all the hours she’d wasted trying to guess, Jessica still didn’t have a clue, and judging by the small talk going on around her, neither did the others.
When the doors were finally closed only half the seats were filled. 18 in total, including her, with no Star Force personnel present. She and the others glanced at each other, not sure what was supposed to happen next, then a door on the opposite end of the room opened and a young and very attractive man walked in wearing Star Force civilian clothing rather than a uniform.
Jessica had an instantaneous crush on him the moment she saw his face…which didn’t register with his identity until he spoke. It was only then that she realized it was Director Davis himself, looking far younger than any photo she had ever seen of him. He looked younger than her, which was impossible, given that she appeared to be in her twenties. She stared at him, a mix of awe and appetite, then realized her mouth was hanging open and pressed her lips together, trying to regain some semblance of professionality.
“Welcome to Atlantis,” Davis said, walking a slow perimeter around the chairs and table rather than sitting down. “Your stay won’t be long, but I felt it necessary that we understand each other before proceeding any further. You’ve all witnessed the revocation of six nations’ sovereignty over their attempt to strike at Star Force via the creation of The Word, and many of your nations have disagreed with those actions.”
“Tough,” Davis said as he walked behind Jessica, who pivoted her chair around slightly so she could face him, as the others were doing. When she did, coming within 2 meters of him, she flushed more than she thought was possible, digging her bare toes into the carpet to try and steady her nerves. Whoever had been responsible for updating the Director’s public profile should have been fired years ago.
“Star Force has been very accommodating to your countries over the centuries, and in fact all of you rely on Star Force to maintain your local economies, not to mention your off-Earth colonies. You’ve had time to get your houses in order, but instead of living up to the responsibilities that come with sovereignty, you’ve leaned on us to do so. As of now, we are no longer being so accommodating.”
Despite her swooning, which Jessica was mentally kicking herself for, she felt the warning in Davis’s tone as he completed his loop around the assembled representatives, finally settling at the head of the table, but shoving a chair out of position so he could remain standing.
“I am rescinding the sovereignty of all nations. As of now, you are all part of Star Force.”
3
Davis held up a hand to forestall questions as the representatives visibly stirred.
“I know this may not be a popular edict, but consider this. It is Star Force that is protecting Earth. Star Force that is feeding Earth. Star Force that is channeling most scientific advancements to Earth. We are sustaining the planet and your so called ‘independent’ nations. In truth, you are already linked to us and not taking any of the responsibility. We are doing it all, while you sit back and reap the benefits, including making laws that work contrary to your citizens’ own good. Without Star Force counteracting your bad policies, your nations would collapse, thus we have been subsidizing your bad behavior…which stops now.”
“If Star Force is going to run Earth, then Star Force is going to run Earth. No more parasites. The 18 of you are from nations that have shown some measure of wisdom and responsibility, but it isn’t enough. You are being annexed, while maintaining a temporary, partial sovereignty during the second stage of the verification process. The nations that you do not see represented here did not pass the first phase. Shortly, their sovereignty will be revoked and Star Force will take full control over their territories. Their governments will be dismantled and we will reorganize them as we see fit.”
“Bottom line is, we’re not coddling the incompetent anymore. You’ve had more than enough time to learn and grow, but most of you have not. You 18 can thank your predecessors for doing something of merit, otherwise your nations would be in the same situation as the others. You have a chance to prove yourselves…a single chance. Whether you make good on it or not is up to you.”
One of the representatives raised a hand, and Davis nodded in his direction.
“What of the nations not on Earth? Are they being annexed as well?” the German asked.
“Yes, but many of them will maintain partial independence. No one will maintain full independence. The details of those annexations will vary based on the history they have with Star Force, but other than knowing that they’re all joining the band, you needn’t concern yourself with their fate. You have your own to worry about,” Davis said, flicking as small remote in his left hand to trigger a hologram over the table.
“Star Force is larger than you know, and it’s time you’re brought up to speed. What you see before you is the current map of our territory. As you can see, we possess dozens of star systems,” he said, triggering a slew of green dots to appear alongside the blue that marked Star Force territory.
“These are lizard systems, and as you can see,” he said, zooming out the map to the point where the blue almost disappeared next to a sea of green, “we’re heavily outnumbered.”
Jessica sucked in an involuntary breath, shocked by the sheer size of the aliens’ territory. Up until now Star Force had only indicated where the battles on the frontier were occurring. They’d never mentioned anything about how large the enemy was, keeping a tight lid on nearly all war news.
“Our allies are here,” he said, adding a slew of other colors that combined did not outmass the green dots. “As you can see, we hold the right flank, looking from galaxy center. We’re not involved in the heaviest of fighting because we’re isolated, but had Star Force not held our ground when we did, Earth would most likely already be in lizard possession…and they rarely take prisoners. Those that they do are slave labor, some of which we’ve helped to free.”
“At present, we’ve made you aware of 6 alien races…the lizards and our allies. The Nestafar,” he said, highlighting their yellow systems with a pulsing of color, “betrayed the Alliance some time ago, siding with the lizards. On their behalf they are fighting the Calavari, their longtime nemesis, and significantly weakening the Alliance. The two races are set to annihilate each other, though we and the other allies are assisting them in their defensive war against the Nestafar. This second war front has not been made public, and is in fact far from any of our systems,” he pointed out with another pulse to both Nestafar and Calavari territory.
“At present, Humanity has a population of about half a trillion. Before this war started the Calavari had an estimated 24 trillion, and the Nestafar 36 trillion, though the exact number now is impossible to determine, for both sides have lost huge chunks of their population.”
“Dear god,” the Canadian whispered loudly.
“The Hycre, our longest standing ally, live inside of gas giants and are altogether incompatible with our living environments, and we with them. They have a population of 19 trillion, and look something like this.”
The galactic hologram lowered down to table level, with Jessica reflexively pulling her hands back from it, as an image of a plump blob appeared over top.
“This is true size,” Davis went on. “They float buoyant in their native atmosphere, appearing rather harmless, but they possess the largest and most powerful warfleet in the Alliance, as well as owning the most difficult of worlds for the lizards to take, given the environmental conditions.”
The image of the Hycre disappeared, replaced by a thin, winged alien.
“This is a Nestafar…and this,” Davis said, adding a four-armed monster alongside it, “is a Calavari, also life-sized.”
“Madre de Dios,” the Spanish representative muttered. “Why haven’t you shown us this before?”
“You didn’t need to know,” Davis said pithily. “Star Force has contact with them, not the nations of Earth,” he said, wiping the two aliens from view and putting up another, this one short and lumpy with a flat-topped head. “This is a Kvash. They are also part of the Alliance, and arguably the strongest race. While the Hycre have naval superiority, the Kvash have size and shield strength advantages, as well as a formidable ground force…something the Hycre lack. Our dealings with them, whose territory lies on the left flank,” Davis said, highlighting their territory, “have been brusque, as they see Star Force as a minor player within the Alliance.”
“I’m not arguing that point with them, given they have a population rumored to be upwards of 50 trillion. Exact numbers they wouldn’t give,” he said, removing the image of the Kvash and replacing it with a gangly insect-like alien. “And finally we have the Bsidd. Their numbers dwarf all others, with their admitted population somewhere between 220 and 240 trillion. They reproduce so fast even they don’t have an accurate head count, and along with the Kvash they make up the left flank of the Alliance, though as you can see our collective territory isn’t flat as you’re used to seeing on Earth, but rather a lumpy cloud that the lizards have been eating into.”
The Bsidd disappeared, replaced by a standard lizard. “This is the face of the enemy that has been made known to the public, but what you don’t know is that the lizards have multiple varieties, each with a specific purpose within their civilization,” Davis said, cycling through all 12 variants, the last of which was a Mastermind whose image had been composited from data provided by Kara’s Vorch’nas.
“We know there are two more versions,” Davis said after it’d cycled back to the standard variant and held that image, “but we don’t have any images of them yet. The lizard numbers are impossible to determine, but it’s safe to say they outnumber all the Alliance races combined, and there are a total of 32, including Star Force. The names we gave you earlier, and the images you’ve now seen here, are the founding members and by far the strongest. Each of which outnumbers us handily.”
“The Hycre brought Star Force into the Alliance, as they did other races. We are a minor player that has been rising in stature, but there are several other races greater in number and military assets. Ours are increasing, but should we face off with another race we’d be in a world of hurt. The only reason we’ve been able to hold out against the lizards is because we’re on the very edge of their territory and not very important as of yet. They’re busy fighting the other Alliance races, plus a much larger foe further rimward known as the H’kar, who they are in the process of destroying.”
“They are not part of the Alliance, but more powerful than any of the races we call allies. Perhaps even stronger than all of us combined…or rather they were. Now they are dying off as the lizards exterminate one system after another. When they finish with them they’ll come harder at the Alliance, and eventually us.”
Davis was silent for a moment, letting the recent revelations sink in as he stared down at the slowly rotating holographic map and the people seated around it.
“So tell me,” he said, leaning down on the table with both arms extended and all but glaring at the representatives, “why should I give a damn about your tiny, pathetic countries?”
When no one answered Jessica bit her lip, then decided to offer her opinion. “There must be something, something small we can do to help?”
Davis looked over at her and slipped a bit of a smirk through his stern face, then he stood up and flicked his remote again, zooming back in on Star Force held territory.
“These systems,” he said, highlighting about a third of the blue dots with a green tinge so that they appeared aqua, “hold an independent Human faction known as Canderous. Star Force created them long ago, and you’ve probably seen their spherical space stations around Jupiter and other planets. They are part of Star Force, but they operate independently. They take orders from me, and especially the Archons when needed, but unless there is an issue they are left alone. Theirs is a military civilization, structured quite differently from the rest of Star Force territory.”
Davis brought another hologram up above the map, with 100 icons floating like pieces of glass, each a different shape and color.
“There are also the Clans. You know a little about them, but what you don’t know is that they are each a nation unto themselves. They exist independent from the rest of Star Force, but are still a part of Star Force. Each Clan is run by one of the trailblazers, the most senior of the Archons. They structure each Clan according to their own unique wishes, and the Clans operate outside of the main Star Force supply lines. They trade with each other, but their mandate is that they remain self-sufficient…same goes for Canderous.”
Another flick of the remote sent the Clan icons to the periphery of the map, with Clan Star Fox’s Arwing icon settling in front of Jessica. She tentatively reached out to touch it, but her finger passed through the light matrix as another alien image appeared.
“While you only know of a few alien races, Star Force has diplomatic contact with hundreds. This one is known as the Kiritas, and they are also part of Star Force.”
Jessica’s eyes widened, but she held her tongue as a few of the others made hushed comments. The revelations were coming so fast her emotions were starting to numb up, and she prompted herself to absorb what she could now and leave her reactions for later.
“When I said that Star Force contained a population of half a trillion, I was referring to Humans. There are, at present, approximately 7 trillion Kiritas, with that number rising quickly at our request. Their civilization is split into two factions…the Kiritas independent civilization and the Kiritak colonies, which function as part of the Star Force infrastructure. The Kiritak exist to provide Star Force with natural resources, and as their population grows so too do the amount of resources they can gather using our equipment and methods.”
“The Kiritas were technologically inferior and suffering from overpopulation when we first discovered them…or rather they discovered us. They came to us asking for help, and we forged a relationship with them that eventually brought them into Star Force…which means that Star Force contains more Kiritas than it does Humans, though we still run the organization.”
Davis altered the holograms again, pushing the Kiritas off to the side and bringing the huge Calavari back up beside it, dwarfing the smaller alien.
“The Calavari are also part of Star Force…not their territory marked on the map, but a number of war survivors that we’ve evacuated back to our territory. We are helping them rebuild on a world we gave them, and incorporating them into Star Force. Their numbers are small, given that we can only evacuate so many given the ships we possess, but as of now there are approximately 300 million Calavari within Star Force, and they too operate as an independent faction, with a handful crossing over to join our main ranks where they’re able.”
Davis altered the hologram again, with a baseball-sized sphere representing Canderous appearing in the center with a large pair of discs labeled Kiritas and Kiritak bracketing it, around which all the Clan markers moved in. Lastly a smaller triangular pyramid representing the Calavari popped up next to Canderous with a large golden square bumping the others aside to get center stage, on top of which stood the Star Force symbol glowing blue.
“This is the true Star Force, as it exists at present. Each piece operates independently from the others, but all work together, not under threat of reprisal or due to some legal code. Star Force is, for lack of better terms, a brotherhood and family. We choose to help one another, we are not forced to do so. This is a critical concept all of you have failed to understand, and you must understand it now or go the way of the other nations that we are dismantling.”
“I have no idea what is happening on the frontier unless those there tell me. Our territory has become so vast they can pretty much do what they want out there, and vice versa, because we can’t keep tabs on one another. We can’t look over each other’s shoulders. We are sovereign, for no other reason than pure geographical distance.”
“For you that is a problem, because it means you lack control, and your governments are structured on control. You force your populations to do or not do things. That is why you don’t understand Star Force. We don’t force each other to do anything. We work together by choice, doing what is necessary. That is why we don’t have a hierarchy. You think that I run Star Force, and you are correct, but the Archons control far more than I do. They’re the ones out fighting the two wars we’re currently engaged in. They’re the ones out making contact with aliens, none of whom I’ve ever met face to face.”
“Star Force is not a single individual, we’re a team, and we trust each other to do what is right and necessary, as well as have the confidence to know that the other guy will step in and help us if we slip up. Canderous is the oldest example of this, and many times the Archons have had to make alterations to it. At first some found this offensive, but over time it just became standard practice, with Canderous seeking to improve itself to the point where Archon intervention wouldn’t be necessary, and they have succeeded, for the most part.”
“We are not enemies, nor competitors, we are brothers working for a common cause. While the Canderians might identify themselves as such, they also identify themselves as Star Force. Up until now that meant Human, but no longer. Star Force has become more than one race. We are a civilization. We are an empire. And if your nations want to become part of that empire, then you’re going to have to prove your worth. The time of Star Force babysitting you is over.”
“Now, each of you have been selected by your nations out of a pool of candidates that we provided. If you are sitting her now, you have skills that Star Force recognizes as at least minimally adequate. Upon you the hard task falls, for I am appointing each of you as the leader of your respective nations, effective immediately.”
“What?” Jessica couldn’t help but ask, but her words were drowned out by half the others saying more or less the same thing.
Davis held up a hand to settle them, and eventually stared them down over the holograms of the various pieces of his growing empire.
“I am no longer dealing with your governments, only you. It is your responsibility to override or work with your nations in whatever manner you see fit during a process of transition. The trick of it is, Star Force isn’t going to tell you how to proceed. If you want to remain an independent faction within the empire,” he said, gesturing to the other holographic pieces before them, “then you’re going to have to prove that you can operate independently.”
“Your task is this. Isolate your nations, which include your offworld colonies, from the Star Force supply chain. That doesn’t include the transportation network. You can still ship cargo and personnel via our jumpships, which everyone else does as well, but you have to produce everything your nation needs on your own, and you have to do it in a way that doesn’t compromise Star Force legal standards, which you must fully adopt. Any other laws you make are your own prerogative, and we will not be advising you on such, but we will be watching and evaluating.”
“Every year that passes you will be held accountable for the progress you’ve made or not made. If you don’t make the cut your nation will be annexed in a manner of our choosing and your partial sovereignty will end. The only way your nations survive is to grow…stagnate, and you die.”
“Earth should be the most important planet in Star Force territory, but soon it will not be, as Corneria has nearly equaled its population, with infrastructure far superior to what the nations have created here. I’m not letting Earth be run by amateurs anymore, and we’re going to remake it into the capitol that it should be. If you want to be a part of that you’re going to have to learn, learn fast, and learn hard, for the training wheels are coming off, and those of you who don’t learn to ride are getting your bikes taken away.”
“Each of you is in charge now. Trick out your bikes as you like, but between yourselves and your nation’s assets, both physical and personnel, you have to get the job done. Period. Or it’s game over.”
The Brazilian representative raised a hand, which Davis recognized with a flip of his chin.
“What’s a bike?”
Davis rolled his eyes and cradled the bridge of his nose between his fingertips as he sighed, realizing that these people had probably never seen a bike in their short lives, let alone rode one.
“Younglings,” he muttered, searching his mind for another metaphor to use.
4
January 3, 2454
Solar System
Earth
Jessica sat on a park bench, looking out at the Wellington Harbor through teary eyes as the heat of the day puckered her bare shoulders with sweat, but she didn’t notice nor care about the weather, nor the crowds walking past her. She was a roiling mess of emotion after coming out of an emergency session of parliament in which they ‘discussed’ the report she’d filed yesterday upon coming back from Atlantis.
Everything was a mess. Star Force had only communicated with the New Zealand government to confirm to them that they weren’t communicating with them any longer aside from going through Avril. She was the emissary, with direct access to Davis, and in charge of the country according to Star Force…something the parliament had been unwilling to accept. Though they had no military to fight with, the government was adamant about opposing the takeover, for what little good it would do for them.
The Americans and Chinese had fought…and subsequently been overrun. Star Force had even managed the takeovers without killing any of their opposition, which just showed how hopeless resistance was even for those nations with a military. Worst of it all was the fact that parliament, who’d chosen her for this assignment, had turned against her. They’d even gone so far as to ban her from all government facilities, labeling her as one of Star Force’s agents.
That hurt, but the worst of it was knowing that New Zealand was wasting its one and only chance to remain sovereign, despite the Star Force security division already present within the country, as well as other small Star Force agencies taking away specific duties and handling them in their own way. And Davis had said it was up to her to find a solution…now that wasn’t possible, given that she’d been banned, meaning New Zealand would be swept up with the other failed nations and cease to exist.
But maybe that was for the best. Jessica hated even thinking that, but looking out over the water through the gaps in the pedestrian traffic ahead of her she began to visualize the changes that were now inevitable, and she had to admit that for the common citizen they’d at least be as well off under Star Force rule as they were now…if not slightly better.
Damn Davis…he was right. If New Zealand couldn’t hold its own then it didn’t deserve sovereignty, especially when Star Force was shielding them from alien threats too large for her to fully comprehend. Parliament had been less than receptive to that as well, not willing to believe what she’d told them. Well, a few did, but the mass of the Representatives denied her claims as a Star Force lie meant to intimate and bully her into compliance.
She’d had nothing to show them, for Davis had given her no information other than what he had shown them in the meeting. Now she thought he had done that on purpose as a test, one that New Zealand was failing. He’d told them what was going on, entrusting them with information that no one else had been given, and instead of using that information the Parliament sought further proof, not because they feared it might be a lie, but because the truth wasn’t convenient to their agenda.
Jessica had been a member of Parliament for more than a decade, but had since moved on to other endeavors both inside and outside of the government, so she knew well how the inner wheels of politics turned and how the verbal lashing she’d just received hadn’t just been for show. They were adamant in their refusal, and there was not going to be any dissuading them, for Davis had said they would be judged on what they did rather than being told what to do, and given no pattern to mimic to maintain their independence, there was no fallback position for them to eventually come around to.
And the clock was ticking. Davis hadn’t set a firm deadline, and that too, she figured, was part of the test. New Zealand had to fend for itself, so Davis was taking the proverbial leash off to see how they ran free, and the stupid Parliament was like a dog chasing its own tail with excessive effort, yet going nowhere.
“Excuse me,” a voice said from beside her, but Jessica barely moved to acknowledge the man who’d stepped up behind her park bench. “Rough day, I hear.”
Jessica sighed, wiping away her more recent tears before sitting up straight and twisting her neck to the side to see the person talking at her. “Very.”
“Do you mind?” the elderly man asked, pointing at the empty portion of her bench.
“Help yourself,” she offered, taking a second look at the man as he sat down. “Have we met before?”
“Many years ago, before I looked like this,” he said with a laugh. “I was one of seven students picked as your escorts during your campus visit to Auckland. I dare say you look even more attractive now.”
“Thank you,” she said to the silver haired ‘grandfather’ figure, who accordingly had a very soothing demeanor. “Your name?”
“Nevil Broncholl.”
The name clicked. “As in Governor Broncholl?”
“Yes, I’m still Governor of our Lunar colony, though I hear for not much longer?”
“You were observing the session?”
Broncholl nodded. “I’m here on business, actually. I had business with Parliament, but it seems that they’re no longer the one I need to talk to. You are.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Right now there is only one man’s opinion that matters, and he isn’t sitting in Parliament. Director Davis recognized you as the leader of New Zealand, and on behalf of Illumia, so do we.”
Jessica frowned slightly, sizing up the man who, despite his physical appearance, was younger than her by at least a handful of years.
“What was your business with Parliament?”
“The independent colonies are facing a similar situation to what you described. Their sovereignty is being revoked, though not in full. They’re being annexed into Star Force but allowed to retain some semblance of identity. The Director’s reasoning was that they aren’t large enough to become self-sufficient, and so long as they’re dependent on Star Force supply lines then they’re going to become part of Star Force. They can’t argue the logic, though our Parliament seems to have overcome that hurdle otherwise known as ‘reason,’ but the colonies still wish to retain the independence they gained centuries ago. It’s very important to them, though they admit not vital. They’re willing to accept annexation, but are seeking another option.”
“What option have I missed?”
“The Director told them they weren’t large enough, so various Governors have been floating around the idea of a merger…with us.”
“And you’ve come to Parliament with their request?”
“With their request and counsel, though given recent revelations I now come to you. You are our only hope to remain independent. Parliament has otherwise sealed our fate, and I regretfully admit that Star Force would be in the right to remove them from leadership…which in a way, Davis already has by appointing you. He’s giving us a chance to measure up, and those of us on Luna are willing to embrace that challenge…if you’re willing to lead us, which I hope you are. New Zealand needs to make this transition, and you’re the only one in a position to make it happen.”
“Circumvent Parliament?”
“As I said, only Davis’s opinion matters. If we do nothing he’s going to be in charge anyway and Parliament will no longer exist. That body is merely a walking corpse. You said Davis told you that you could work with them if you wished, but it was up to you?”
“Yes, he did. So you’re asking me to choose another path?”
“Indeed.”
“By chance have you spoken with our other colonial Governors?”
“About the merger, yes, but I haven’t had time to inform them of Parliament’s recent actions.”
“Of course not,” Jessica said, mentally kicking herself. It’d only been a couple of hours, though to her it felt like days. “Do you think there are enough resources off Earth to accommodate a successful merger?”
“I haven’t given up on the homeland just yet, but if you’re forced down that road I believe it is logistically possible, with a lot of leg work.”
“What’s their pitch?”
“A conglomerate with linked economies, transit, and a military option. They add their specialties to the pool rather than trying to produce everything that they need themselves, which is nearly impossible, unless you were very, very meticulous in planning out your infrastructure. They don’t have the time or resources available to do that in the time allotted, so a merger appears their only option…with each of them working towards individual self-sufficiency down the road.”
“For eventual secession?”
“No. So long as they retain their own identities within the conglomerate they are content. They don’t mind playing for a team so long as they’re not forced into becoming a team player.”
“I fail to see the difference.”
“Forgive me, its athletic terminology. A team player is someone who has no identity, they serve the team and do whatever it requires without autonomy. It’s long been held that a team is a group of individuals working together for mutual advantage, with the ‘team player’ concept having existed previously in a type of communistic philosophy.”
“A band of equals then?”
“Exactly.”
“Davis said we’d have to exist using Star Force’s legal code.”
“Most of the colonies already do. In order to attract colonists and keep those born to them they’ve had to heavily pattern themselves off Star Force, otherwise they’d lose population and self-destruct as many others have.”
“Would they accept me as a communal leader, for that’s the only way I could see this happening under Davis’s terms. They would have to join New Zealand, not just ally with it.”
“But you can remake New Zealand into whatever you wish, if I understood your powers correctly.”
“He said I was in charge and could do what I want.”
“Well then, formulate a new government and I’ll run it by the other colonies.”
“That’s far more complicated than you make it sound.”
“Not when you can make it whatever you want. There’s no need to form a new Parliament unless you deem a good reason for it. We can be an empire, in the traditional format, for a short period of time if necessary to preserve our independence.”
“You mean a single, all-powerful leader?”
“Isn’t that what Davis already made you?”
“He didn’t make me anything, he just mentioned it in a conversation.”
“Power isn’t something that can be given,” Broncholl reminded her.
“It’s something that is created through skill and influence,” Jessica finished.
“I highly doubt the Director of Star Force chose you randomly. He must think you have the skills necessary to lead.”
“He didn’t choose me specifically. I was on a list he gave the government, and they selected me.”
“But to make his list means he decided you were worthy.”
“All I have is a title...or, actually, I don’t even have that. I’m just the ‘one in charge’ without any means to do anything.”
“Our country is coming to an end unless you do. A leader doesn’t do the heavy lifting, she just points out the direction to go. Point, and you’ll find volunteers coming forth with the resources you need. As I said, Illumia will back you, and while we’re not the largest Lunar colony, we’re not exactly small. Population wise we’re a quarter the size of the homeland, and all New Zealand colonies put together amass more than we have here.”
“We…I have to rework an entire country into a self-sufficient nation that will meet up with criteria that Davis won’t share with me. How am I supposed to do that without the homeland?”
“Be creative and get the ball rolling. The homeland will probably come around when it sees that Parliament had no answers, but even if it doesn’t you have a responsibility to the responsible New Zealand citizens who are willing to work the problem.”
“Even if doing so starts a civil war?”
“The country dies regardless if you fail.”
Jessica put her head in her hands, making a sound of frustration.
“You’re also respected by the people because you’ve attained self-sufficiency…and without being athletic.”
“I assume there’s a measure of insult there somewhere?” she said through her fingers as she faced the ground.
“Not from an old man like me,” Broncholl said diplomatically.
“I actually do a lot of running, if you must know.”
“Running’s not a sport, it’s a workout.”
Jessica sat up and looked around, seeing people moving about oblivious to their conversation and how it was going to affect their lives.
“Where do you suggest we start?”
Broncholl smiled broadly. “Let’s begin by taking this indoors, shall we?”
Three hours later Jessica and the Governor were sitting in an office complex with half a dozen corporate CEOs working through multiple ideas of how to restructure New Zealand in a fashion that would suit Star Force’s demands for self-sufficiency along with modifying the economic foundation of the country to operate without taxes…something that every Star Force colony impossibly accomplished on a regular basis.
New Zealand had abolished their income tax a while back, but still maintained sales and property taxes to fund the government, as did local municipalities. The situation in the offworld colonies was a bit different, since their populations lived in habitats where there was no private property, only leases for businesses and personal quarters. That meant the homeland was going to be a larger problem to convert than the colonies were, something that almost tempted Jessica to just forgo the homeland and let it revert to Star Force control while the ‘nation’ of New Zealand continued on elsewhere in the Solar System.
But no, that would be giving up a lot of valuable resources and people. If she was going to help New Zealand save itself then she was going to see that all of it got saved. That meant finding a revenue source other than taxes and a supply chain other than the Star Force markets.
Those two things seemed impossible, but little by little over the following hours and the subsequent 5 days she and others put together a basic plan that leaned heavily on the voluntary participation of native businesses and corporations to come together and spawn a new business that would fund the government the way Star Force’s corporation had in its outset. That new business was an exchange, handling everything from stocks to natural resources, and one that only operated within New Zealand boundaries.
Loyal New Zealand corporations would start to funnel as much of their business as economically viable through the exchange, giving Jessica some quick revenue to begin working with, estimated at 3-5 weeks past inception, which was happening impromptu over her first few days as ‘Empress,’ with more ideas and support pouring in as word got around that she was forgoing the Parliament and seeking to secure New Zealand’s independence according to Star Force terms.
On day 7 of her quest the Parliament sent their police force after her with orders to arrest and detain, but by that time she’d already picked up a Star Force security escort, which made quick work of the police unit sent to retrieve her. Then, unexpectedly, Star Force backtracked the arrest order to the Parliament and arrested them, meaning suddenly her opposition was out of the picture and she was left with sole command of the country.
After that happened everyone flocked to her side, seeing her as their only hope of averting a Star Force takeover, which became ever more real when they saw the members of Parliament being taken out of the capitol in restraints. The news vids quickly caught on to the sentence they were receiving, which was confinement until the fate of New Zealand was decided, after which they’d be released.
That meant no imprisonment for the Representatives, just house arrest that Star Force security and the local New Zealand police worked out the specifics of quickly, getting the troublesome politicians out of the way of the sweeping changes that Jessica Avril, Emissary of New Zealand, as they’d eventually come to call her, was making to upgrade their country enough to keep them alive in a world where almost every other nation was being wiped off the map.
Jessica also told the public why, and how she didn’t disagree with Star Force’s actions. Humanity was at risk, and if New Zealand wanted to continue to exist they had to measure up and offer something of value, no matter how small, to help Star Force rather than be a parasitic drain on the organization that was actively protecting them from alien annihilation.
With that message firmly established, New Zealand’s population became united in a way they’d never seen before, with virtually everyone working to find ways to make their nation more powerful and less reliant on outside resources, tech, and personnel. It was grow up or go home, and the nation as a whole was now game to meet that challenge.
5
January 1, 2455
Solar System
Earth
With the turning of the New Year Jessica was summoned back to Atlantis, ostensibly to receive New Zealand’s report card on their actions over the previous year, but like before the Director hadn’t specified. Though she had direct communication access to him, they’d only spoken once, that being when she’d run the merger concept by him. There hadn’t been much discussion, but he had okayed the concept, and Jessica hadn’t pushed for more after that. They were, after all, supposed to learn to do for themselves and she felt that asking Davis for things would undermine that purpose, so her line to the ‘Emperor’ had gone virtually unused.
Likewise Davis hadn’t contacted her, save for the recall message she’d received three days ago. A mantis had picked her up in New Zealand and flew her east towards Atlantis, just like it had a year ago, save for this time she remembered not to wear high heels.
When she got to the city she was taken to temporary quarters again, but her stay there lasted only 20 minutes before her escorts came and led her to what looked like the same conference room as before, though it was difficult to tell given the size of the city and her inability to keep track of exactly where she was being shuffled around to.
When the doors closed she saw that the 18 nations that had been represented here before had now been cut down to 12. The faces she now knew well, as she’d become acquainted with all the ‘emissaries’ over the past year. After all, they were now the most famous people on the planet outside of Star Force, with the pressures and tasks placed on them making for the largest reality show the planet had to watch…with the stakes higher than anything they’d witnessed before.
Because of that Jessica’s every move was followed by the media and scrutinized heavily, not just by New Zealand, but by the rest of the planet and even those offworld. The entire Solar System was watching, but fortunately there were no cameras here, in what appeared to be the second round of the ‘Nation Games.’
Across the table from her were the Russian and Brazilian reps, with Marcus Stosur seated to her right. The Australian was a friend she’d known for the past 2 decades, but the others she hadn’t personally met aside from their brief meeting a year ago. The other 8, seated on her left around the curvy table, were from Spain, Ukraine, Canada, Germany, Sahara, Argentina, Scandinavia, and Poland.
“Welcome back,” Davis said, walking in and sitting down between the Australian and Russian reps. “As you’ve probably guessed, you’ve all made it through the first cut, not because your countries are sufficient, but because you’ve made strides in that direction. Due to this, you can rest assured that your nations will retain their identities even if you fail beyond this point. Those that are not here with us will not have that luxury. Their political borders will be scrapped and a new layout set in place. If/when we fully take over yours, you won’t suffer the same fate. That much you’ve earned, at least, though your governments will be totally replaced and all social structures gutted and replaced with Star Force standards…but your names and borders will remain intact,” he said almost mockingly.
“Now, to the business at hand. You’ve had 1 year to begin reworking yourselves, with some of you making more progress than others. That progress may have gotten you this far, but it will take you no farther. You have a total of 5 years to make the full transition, of which 1 has already passed. At that point you will either gain full sovereignty or you will be relegated to some limited autonomy as deemed appropriate, as many offworld colonies already are being transitioned to.”
“That’s the end date, but for the coming year there are two major hurdles you must pass, at minimum, to proceed further. That is the abolition of all taxes, and the 100% production of your own foodstuffs. I suggest you don’t focus exclusively on these two things, but these are must haves by year’s end.”
Davis glanced over at Jessica. “To another matter. Those nations that are not present at this table may be inquiring of you to form mergers to avoid their being annexed. You can accommodate them as you choose, but with their populations and resources comes their baggage as well. Their territory will become yours, and you will be judged accordingly. Do not take on more than you can handle, if any, but the choice is yours.”
“Some of you have been inquiring about information regarding the alien threat, to which I’ve responded in the negative. That has not changed. You don’t need to concern yourself with what’s out there, you need to focus on what’s happening here.”
Davis leaned back in his chair and flipped both hands up in an open gesture.
“Questions?”
“One year is a very short timespan for that level of construction,” the Saharan commented.
“If you were starting from scratch, yes, but the reason all of you were given this opportunity is because you had already accomplished some things on your own. Those of you who accomplished less than others are at a disadvantage, but it is one of your own making. The truest test takes place when you don’t know you’re being tested. If you didn’t build infrastructure on your own, when no one was making you, that goes to show you’re irresponsible. This makes your current requirement more of a challenge, but as such, your countries’ current conditions are irrelevant to the finish line. You will either make the cut or you won’t. How or why you fail is irrelevant.”
“Is there a middle ground to achieve a partial level of autonomy?” the Spaniard asked.
“Yes.”
“And what are those requirements?”
“Each year is a round. There are five rounds in total. The more you pass, the more autonomy you get.”
“There are no alternative requirements?” the German asked.
“Maintaining the food supply is one of the most critical responsibilities within a civilization,” Davis underscored. “If you can’t do that independent of Star Force’s supply chain, then you don’t deserve autonomy, for autonomy isn’t a privilege as much as it is a responsibility. If you want autonomy you have to prove yourselves worthy, and that starts with an independent food supply.”
“Can we purchase bioharvest infrastructure from Star Force?” Jessica asked.
“At this round, yes, but that will not always be the case.”
“Which round do we lose that option?” the Saharan asked, whose North African country sported thousands of the Star Force designs out in the desert wastelands.
“Not this one. As for the others it won’t matter if you don’t make it past round 2.”
“So you’re not telling us what’s ahead?” Jessica asked.
“You know what’s ahead,” Davis countered. “Full self-sufficiency. Get there how you like, but do it quickly.”
“And if we like taxes?” the Saharan asked half sarcastic.
“Taxes are cheating. If your governments are competent they won’t need to rob the wallets of the…excuse me, rob the personal bank accounts of their citizens, nor those of their businesses to stay financially afloat,” Davis said, realizing he was referencing another metaphor that they wouldn’t understand. Nowadays there were no such things as wallets.
“May I ask,” the Russian said coolly, “what our military requirements will be?”
Jessica frowned. “Are there going to be military requirements?”
“There will be security requirements,” Davis said ambiguously. “In order for your nations to be independent you have to be able to police your own territories. You cannot rely on Star Force’s military or security division any more than you can our markets. Now, I don’t mean to say you’ll be contributing troops to the ongoing wars…that would be rather absurd given how inferior your military technology is compared to ours, but you cannot be a victim waiting to happen. You have to have the ability to react to, at minimum, organized criminal or mercenary attacks.”
The Russian nodded, seemingly content given the fact that they now fielded the largest military after the downfall of the United States, many of whose disarmed captured ships they’d recently purchased to bolster their own fleet.
“When you refer to self-sufficiency,” the Scandinavian asked, “does that mean operating outside of Star Force or on our own?”
“Meaning can you trade with the other nations here?”
“That and the various corporations operating out of Star Force territories.”
“While trade is an important facet of economics that you need to master, for the purposes of this test you must eventually produce everything in house. So no, you won’t be allowed to trade with other nations or corporations, though at present you still can. Understood?”
“Yes,” the man said reluctantly, and from there on the questions got more and more depressing as the various emissaries began to explore options and have Davis shoot them down one after another. While many of them understood the basic concept of self-sufficiency, they kept trying to find a loophole to allow them to work around it, knowing how difficult it was going to be to transition their countries over to an entirely self-contained economy…not to mention having only a handful of years in which to do it.
“Miss Avril, might I have a word?” the Saharan asked as Jessica and the others were walking out of the conference room some hours later.
“Of course,” she answered, stepping aside in the hallway around one of the giant Knights standing guard.
“In private?”
“I’m not sure exactly where that would be around here,” she asked with a laugh, looking for her escorts and finding them nearby. “Are we required to leave immediately?”
“What is it that you need?” one of the pair asked.
“Someplace where the two of us can talk before we head back to our respective countries.”
The escort nodded. “Shouldn’t be a problem. There are empty rooms nearby,” he said, glancing at his counterpart who walked off to find them one.
“Thank you,” the Saharan said with a respectful nod.
Not wanting to talk in the presence of the Star Force personnel or the other emissaries that were mingling outside and throwing a few curious glances at the Saharan, they waited quietly until the escort returned and guided them to an empty, enclosed balcony overlooking an indoor park of massive scale. There was an assortment of benches and decorative plants and waterfalls, making it seem as if the platform was a halfway zone between the austere city interior and the organic space beyond.
“We’ll be outside when you wish to depart,” the escorts said, with all four of them walking out of view, though with no door into the hallway, only a zigzag entrance to obscure the view and isolate the balcony, it was still likely that they could overhear the pair.
“Thank you for speaking with me.”
“You’re welcome, Amman. What’s on your mind?”
“As I’m sure you’re aware, Sahara is an exporter of foodstuffs, meaning we’re already self-sufficient in that category.”
“Unlike the rest of us,” Jessica quipped.
“Some more than others. I was wondering, if it’s not private information, how is New Zealand set at present?”
“It’ll be tight, but we have a fair chance of making the deadline. A few of our colonies are foodstuff exporters as well, and if we can get them to increase output it’ll swing us close to the mark.”
“Your annexation of extraneous colonies has served you well?”
“Like the Director inferred, they also come with baggage, but most offworld colonies are already partially self-sufficient due to the realities of existing in space. It’s the homeland that’s dragging us down, as I image is the same for everyone else?”
“Russia appears to have the worst of it, given their Earthbound population, but Sahara is also suffering from this ‘drag,’ and despite our status as a foodstuff producing nation, there is no chance that we will be able to abolish all taxes within a year’s time. I’ve been running the numbers constantly, and the simple fact is that we rely on the taxes and private industry for everything. I’ve studied your solution to the problem, but our nation is nowhere near as diverse as yours, with most of our resources being achieved through external trade.”
“To put it bluntly,” he continued, “we cannot function without the Star Force markets. I’ve been trimming back the problem where I can, but 5 years is not nearly enough time. Perhaps if I had Davis’s skills I could manage something, but I do not. My country has also been somewhat resistant to my leadership, and I must admit that I envy your position.”
“They weren’t too keen on my leadership in the beginning either,” Jessica noted.
“This I heard, but now you have a free hand to act as you wish?”
“They trust me…as well as realize there’s no other way to do what’s necessary in the little time that we have.”
“Yes, time is of the essence, and you have a foodstuff production shortage to address…so I humbly offer a shortcut to you dilemma.”
“I’m listening.”
“We will not pass round 2, and though our borders and name may remain, I fear little else will after Star Force gets done ‘upgrading’ us. We’re already beginning to see it happen in other countries that failed to measure up, and I’d like to avoid that happening to us, even if it means playing a supporting role. Though my government may not agree, like you, I have the responsibility for my nation, and I will override them if necessary, so I am asking you on behalf of Sahara, if you would consider accepting us as a New Zealand colony. That, I believe, will solve your foodstuff inadequacy over the coming year.”
Jessica’s eyes narrowed as she considered all the implications. “Why us? I’m sure the others need your foodstuffs, perhaps more than we do.”
“I’ve been studying you and your tactics, as well as those of all the others, and you were the first to begin incorporating other factions into your nation. Others have copied your methodology, and I for one wish I could have as well, but all the prime colonies have gone to others, and the few that remain would be more of a burden on us than an asset. You’ve turned down many requests, yes?”
“Unfortunate, but true. I would like to incorporate as many people into our pot as we can, not because I think Star Force will do wrong by them, they won’t, in fact they’ll do better than we can, but controlling your own fate has an appeal that’s worth working for, so I’ve had to be choosey, for if I overload us and fail all of us default back to Star Force control.”
“You’re also allowing your colonies some measure of freedom?”
“A measure, yes, but make no mistake when I say that I…for lack of a better term…rule them all. We can’t subsidize colonies’ bad behavior and inefficiencies, so if they’re not interested in making changes I’m not bringing them onboard…and those that are interested, but are too burdensome, I’m reluctantly having to pass on too.”
“Would Sahara be a burden or an asset?”
“Honestly, both. Your homeland population is far larger than ours, and so far I’ve not been inclined to accept any homeland nations into our conglomerate. Your foodstuff production is something that may make me reconsider that, but without running through the logistics I can’t give you an answer here and now.”
Amman smiled. “Not that I expected you too. If you decline I’ll be forced to go with other offers that will no doubt be forthcoming, but I can give you a month to consider your options. Will that be sufficient?”
“If you can provide economic statistics, the real ones, not those floating around the news vids. I don’t know who’s providing the bad numbers, but I’ve made a few corrections to ours, which is why I haven’t been taking the reporting on the rest of you all that seriously.”
“I will provide you with all the data you need, but while we do have our shortcomings, I believe a merger would be in both nations’ best interests, and I am confident the numbers will back that opinion up.”
“Thank you for coming to me with this first.”
“New Zealand might not be the power player here, but the odds makers have you fifth in line as of late.”
“I haven’t looked,” Jessica admitted. “What’s the odds of no one making it running?”
“3:5…only slightly behind Australia’s 1:2.”
“I have a feeling that once this round’s requirements hit the news those numbers are going to alter significantly.”
“It’s a shame we’re forbidden from placing any bets of our own.”
“Not my area of expertise,” Jessica said kindly, looking up at the slightly taller man.
“Well then, if there are no questions you have that I can answer now, I’ll see to getting you those statistics as soon as possible.”
“I…” Jessica started to say as she saw a number of tiny people in the park below her come running out of the trees into view and start getting knocked around by a larger man wearing all black in some sort of a training exercise, she hoped.
“Future soldiers in training,” Amman said, following her eye line. “It’s said the Archons take their basic training here. Perhaps that’s what we’re seeing.”
“It’s so…brutal,” she said, though not being able to make out much detail from the height they were looking down from.
“I expect we’d be surprised by a great many things they do here. I doubt we were meant to see even this.”
“Accidental security breach?”
“Or a coincidental privilege. Either way, it is fascinating to watch. Makes you wonder what’s actually going on out on the frontier.”
“I get the feeling I’d rather not know the details,” Jessica said with a frown. Fighting had always been a turnoff for her.
“Yes, well, we both have a great many of our own to deal with as it is,” Amman said, turning away from the wide window. “Until our next meeting then.”
“Whenever that may be,” she offered with a smile as the pair walked out and split up, with their escorts taking them different ways through the city to their waiting mantises.
6
January 4, 2455
Solar System
Earth
“We can’t do it,” Jessica said to her roomful of advisors as they stared down at a tabletop workstation that had a plethora of statistics on both Sahara’s and New Zealand’s economic situations. “There’s no way we can accommodate that much cost, we’re barely skimming by as it is without any tax revenue.”
“I agree,” Travis Ven said, rubbing his goatee thoughtfully. “If we had more time we might be able to work something out, but with only a year…it can’t be done.”
“Can we get enough foodstuff production up and running as is?” Governor Broncholl asked, who’d permanently reassigned himself to Earth to assist Avril with the Nation Games while running Illumia from afar.
Jessica shook her head. “Not at our current production levels. The homeland is dragging everything down.
“Arcadria is boosting production as fast as it can,” Ven said, being Jessica’s official liaison with that Lunar nation that had recently come onboard as one of 22 additional New Zealand colonies in her country’s new conglomerate, bringing the total up to 37. “Coupled with help from Nadia and Crodd, we may be able to meet the demands of all the colonies, leaving the terrestrial territory to our remaining production base.”
“Which is insufficient,” Jessica reminded him.
“At present, but we have a year to work with.”
“Sahara is the key,” Karen Drake said, tapping on a non-sensitive portion of the touchscreen tabletop above their bioharvest statistics. “Not only in passing this round, but giving us enough of a surplus of basic foodstuffs that we can diversify out into luxury items and not have to subject the population to categorical rationing.”
“Do you see a way to make it work?” Jessica asked.
“No, but I’m convinced there has to be one. We just haven’t found it yet.”
Jessica took a step back from the table and rubbed her eyes, weary from so much data shuffling. “Let’s look at this from another angle. We’re not Star Force, and we can’t do things their way, which is usually the best way, so is there a not so good idea that would work that we’re overlooking?”
“Abandon the homeland,” Broncholl quipped sarcastically.
“Actually,” Arron Ecsten, her fourth of four primary advisors, mewed, “that might be preferable than failing to pass this round.”
“Says a non-native,” Broncholl pointed out, for Ecsten was also from one of the newly joined colonies.
“No…no, he’s right,” Jessica admitted. “Star Force would keep everyone onboard and make it work, but we have the luxury of jettisoning our ‘baggage’ because we know what will become of it.”
“They’ll be better off with Star Force’s resources anyway,” Drake added, “rather than having to skim along with the rest of us.”
Jessica nodded.
Broncholl stared at her disbelievingly. “You can’t be serious?”
“Very serious,” she said, tapping on the table and moving aside the mounds of data sheets in exchange for a map of all their current possessions, laid out in iconic format to include all 37 colonies alongside the appropriately shaped New Zealand home islands. “Let’s look at this as an academic exercise, shall we? What can we cut and where. Explore all options.”
“What about a sell off?” Broncholl suggested, if only to avoid the idea of abandoning the homeland. “The government holds a great deal of property. If we offer it up to private enterprise it could give us the influx of currency that we need to build new infrastructure.”
“Or to support Sahara for a calendar year,” Ecsten added.
Jessica tapped a finger in the air, indicating that there was a valid point. “What do we have that Star Force doesn’t…as far as private industries are concerned?”
“Nothing that I’m aware of,” Ven said with a half-hearted laugh.
“Land,” Jessica insisted. “They have to pay continual leases to set up in Star Force territories, or taxes in other countries…which will now no longer be an option. What if we were willing to sell them land that they’d never have to pay another credit for after purchase?”
“It’d be a long term investment,” Broncholl said, thinking as he spoke, “that would be contingent on New Zealand retaining its independence, for Star Force most likely wouldn’t honor the sales if we fail and they take over.”
“No they wouldn’t,” Jessica admitted with a smile. “It’d be a gamble…and a very lucrative one at that if a corporation could pull it off. Some of them would try, I’d wager, if we gave them the opportunity and the appearance that we’re in a solid position for making it through the rounds.”
“Transitional capital,” Ven said approvingly.
“We’d have to build fast, but at the moment we can still buy Star Force contracts,” Jessica teased.
“Wait a moment,” Drake said, holding up a painted fingernail. “Doesn’t Sahara have a lot of unused land space?”
“In government possession?” Ven added.
Jessica pushed aside their virtual map and dug up the information on the other nation, which included a geographical layout of property rights within the country. Almost all of the bioharvest facilities scattered across the desert were privately owned, the tax money from which fueled the country’s treasury, in addition to the leases they paid for being set up on government owned lands.
“Most of it is government owned,” Jessica confirmed, seeing large tracks of land that were as of yet undeveloped in between the bioharvest oases spread out across the once useless territory. Star Force’s internal bioharvest technology had changed that, turning the desert into a breadbasket once water lines from the ocean were established to feed the facilities that then recycled most of their lost moisture.
“If you can strike a deal with Sahara,” Broncholl suggested slyly, “that gives New Zealand actual possession of the country, then we can sell off these unused lands and give us a wealth of credits in addition to sale of land here, and perhaps a bit out in the colonies as well?”
Ven stiffened slightly. “I’m not sure how popular that will be back home.”
Jessica waved the notion off. “The agreement we have doesn’t give New Zealand total possession, so the nations that joined us as colonies will be exempt from this plan, though the ones we already possessed will be an option,” she said, throwing a glance at Broncholl. “But the main draw is the Earth territories, given the environmental conditions. If we’re going to be funding Sahara’s lack of tax revenue, I might be able to broker terms to get what we need…or they might figure out what we’re doing and just do it themselves without us.”
“Not if they’re wise,” Ven disagreed. “It’s a onetime influx of credits, not a steady flow. Without their bioharvest industry to tax they’re a poor nation, so they can’t go that route.”
“A fair point,” Broncholl acknowledged.
“Alright,” Jessica said, raising a hand. “I’ll contact the Saharans and see if we can hammer out a deal. You guys keep working on theoretical cuts, both as a backup and maybe something we can do to stack our odds.”
“Now?” Drake asked as Jessica turned to walk away.
“We can’t waste a day, or an hour,” she said, looking back over her shoulder. “Keep working and let’s try to maintain the advantages we’ve got while we’ve got them.”
A year later Jessica found herself alone in the back of a mantis heading for Atlantis, reminiscent of her previous 2 visits. The year had gone by so fast, yet so much had happened that she felt like she was in a time warp. New Zealand had been invited back for round 3, which was a huge relief. With their finances teetering and the foodstuff production flowing adequately, the New Zealand conglomerate was holding to the requirements Star Force had set down for round 2, but she knew that Davis was looking at other factors as well, and she’d had a bad feeling that he was going to nix her over them…but that had never come to pass.
She’d only received word a few hours ago, upon which a mantis showed up to whisk her away along with the other ‘victors’ to where they’d hear the terms for round 3, or so she assumed. Davis wasn’t telling them anything, and that among other things was what was lending this whole endeavor into a game-like environment, which had Jessica constantly thinking ahead, even while scraping to meet the current requirements.
Sahara had successfully been integrated into the conglomerate, but only piecemeal. Several high population centers had been cut out, leaving her with the most resourceful areas of the country as an independent colony in league with New Zealand. That independence had been hard to come by, given that Amman had to effectively secede from his own nation to achieve it. His government now had control over the ‘discarded’ regions, but without a means to fund itself now that the taxes from the bioharvest facilities were gone.
Upon his request Star Force had already started to move in and annex the old government, which was none too happy with being discarded. The Saharan people, meanwhile, were doing a lot of traveling as they decided which side of the line they wanted to be on. Those loyal to the independent Sahara moved into the New Zealand colonial zone while those wishing to either oppose the split or live under Star Force rule left for the carved out regions that were already seeing a major facelift as Davis’s construction crews came in and started reworking the major infrastructure along with an influx of supplies that the populace was not accustomed to.
Many felt the immediate benefits of the Star Force takeover, so there wasn’t much widespread ill will about the split, with plenty of ardent supporters within the borders willing to work to maintain their independence, even if as a New Zealand property. With Amman’s help they’d already set up a colonial government in line with the rest of Jessica’s mandatory structure, with her appointing him Governor now that his role as emissary was now over.
With the foodstuff production from the new colony filling in the cracks, as well as providing them with exports, Jessica had been able to devote her attention and resources to other problems, some of which she was only anticipating Davis to pounce on in later rounds, hoping to get a leg up on the deadlines before they came down.
With a load of credits that was steadily increasing as excess land was being sold off to, in her opinion, either brave or stupid entrepreneurs that saw the value in paying a large upfront cost only to never again have to worry about paying a lease, which would considerably cut down their expenditures compared to the corporations operating out of Star Force territories, Jessica was able to create a number of startup programs, the first of which was a communal security force.
Part police part military, it was a tether that was intended to bind the various colonies together, staffed not of locals, but of a core group of individuals recruited and trained together. She hoped this and other programs would provide a backbone for the conglomerate that would make it a true nation rather than just an alliance. Adding to the security force, she also set the basics for educational and training facilities that all the colonies could use, ridding them of the necessity of maintaining their smaller facilities and allowing them to reduce their individual operating costs.
In theory, anyway, for these were just starter programs that needed time to build, but she knew she had to plant the seed early, which was why she’d consolidated many of the various colonies’ resources into communal projects, including shipyard facilities, the bulk of which were having to be built new. They’d contracted Star Force for that job, hoping to give themselves the capability of building their own ships so they wouldn’t have to rely on outside purchases.
Fortunately there were already some New Zealand yards of smaller scale, along with those of companies within their borders that gave them some immediate capability to begin building the security force vessels that the program would need once it got off its feet, and the same for their infantile cargo distribution and transit network.
There were so many programs starting up that it was difficult to keep them all straight in her head, and right now she was worried about what the next round would entail. Would they have time to build, or would they have to scramble to catch up? Already there were a line of nations asking to join up, most of which she had to put on hold or refuse, though by cutting up several of them piecemeal they’d added another four colonies to their territory, bringing the total number up to 42 not counting the homeland.
For the length of the trip out to Atlantis she was trying to guess at what Davis was going to assign them to do this round, going through numerous mental calculations and predictions for the umpteenth time. She knew she needed to grab a few hours of sleep now that she had the chance, but her mind was far too wound up to allow for that, leaving her in an anxious state all the way out to Atlantis.
Fortunately she didn’t have to wait when she arrived, and was taken straight to the conference room, being the last inside. When the doors shut behind her she sat down amongst 5 other nations’ emissaries…meaning that half of those in round two had been eliminated.
Those that remained included the big three of Russia, Brazil, and Australia…along with Canada and Germany. Canada, with a large bioharvest export capacity in its frozen northern landmass, had merged with Scandinavia and a scattering of other colonies and nations that were already set up for Star Force annexation. Germany had done the same with off Earth colonies, but had not taken on any homeland nations, leaving the others that had failed to make round 3 now out of the ‘game’ entirely.
“Six remaining,” Davis said, appearing from the other entrance as he had the previous two times. “You’ve done moderately well to get this far, though some of you have had to get very creative to accomplish it.”
The Director sat down and activated the hologram above the table, this time with an image of the Earth with all the various nations outlined.
“The mergers that some of you have been making are hereby no longer tenable for the nations that did not receive an invite to this test,” he said, hitting a button and wiping their borders off the map, leaving most of the planet in a unified blue representing Star Force territory. “The others are still in play if you wish to take them onboard during this round. Annexation programs there are still in their infancy and won’t reach end game levels for some time, thus preserving the option. Oh, and the offworld colonies are likewise out of play.”
With the touch of his handheld remote the planet rose up, clearing space beneath it where a laundry list of items appeared.
“Now that you have enough foodstuff production that your nations won’t starve to death, the next step is the quality and diversity of said foodstuffs, with these items all being required to be produced by your respective nations in amounts unique to your populations, the numbers of which we will provide you. These are not the only products you may make, just the minimum list.”
Davis shoved the list aside and popped up another, floating in glowing letters between the emissaries and slowly rotating in place so all of them could glance at it face on at some point.
“In this round you will also be required to produce raw materials, with the minimums on the list before you. Corovon, you will note, is not on this list. It is a rare material that you will be allowed to purchase from Star Force in perpetuity, or from the Russians, who at present have a small mining facility in the Prancer System. Some of you already have recycling facilities to reclaim the C-type elements, and I would encourage you to continue down that line of thought, for you will be required to create and maintain a stockpile of 45 kilograms at all times for the remainder of the rounds.”
“How you acquire it is up to you, but I don’t want you relying on Star Force’s ability to provide it to you instantaneously. If our supply lines are interrupted, you could experience shortages, and therefore you must have a reserve in play to accommodate ongoing construction projects.”
“Other requirements for this round include the following: establishing a societal database compatible with and linked to Star Force’s computer network regarding the identification of all individuals within your nations. Up till now there have been some lurkers that have never crossed through a Star Force facility and thus have never been cataloged. That is no longer an option.”
“Star Force’s code of business rules will also have to be fully applied. Most corporations will be operating and selling across our borders, thus the rules will be universal. No exceptions for local market exclusives.”
“Production of all dropships must now occur within your own borders. You can purchase them from corporations within your borders, but they must be fully produced there. Likewise you will now be banned from purchasing dropships from Star Force.”
“You will be required to establish and maintain a military force equivalent to the rating level 11 that some of you are already familiar with. Three of you already possess this rating, the others do not. Given that Star Force doesn’t sell weapons, you must either produce or purchase them on your own merits. Confiscated ships in Star Force possession are now off limits as well, though you may purchase them secondhand through other individuals if the opportunity arises.”
“Lastly, each of you must build and have operational a spaceport/starport link from Earth to Earth orbit. This must be an entirely new build, not a refitted existing facility, and accomplished either by your own construction crews or by corporations existing within your borders. No outside corporation or Star Force contracts are permissible.”
Davis added each of those requirements to the holographic group floating before the emissaries, with Jessica swallowing hard at the sight of them…and the implications they held for the coming year.
“That’s right,” Davis said, guessing as to their thoughts. “It’s getting harder. If you can’t keep up, you don’t deserve to run with the big dogs.”
7
April 19, 2455
Solar System
Mars
Luis Remma stood waiting on the holoprojector, running what he was about to say through his head again so he didn’t have to rerecord this message a fourth time. Given that Mars and Earth were too far away for realtime communications, even at their closest orbital approach to one another, Luis’s communications with Director Davis always had to be achieved via message. He would have preferred to have spoken with the man in person, and had considered traveling to Earth to do just that, but one advantage of the communications lag was that he had several attempts to word his request just right, for a lot hinged on this conversation and he didn’t want to screw up a potential opportunity by coming off with the wrong tone.
With his mental point list ready, he thumbed the record button on a pedestal to his side and the hologram began recording.
“Director Davis. On behalf of Brazil I want to extend my thanks for the opportunity you’ve given us to achieve full sovereignty within Star Force’s restructuring of Humanity. After conferring with my advisors and our government, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is not in Brazil’s best interests to try and achieve full sovereignty. Our nation is best suited when intertwined with the Star Force markets, and while many believe that succumbing to Star Force control is a loss of freedom, I disagree.”
“You are far wiser than us, and we have learned much from you and wish to continue doing so as an integrated part of the larger economy rather than try and establish our own separate niche of it. You stated previously that the further we progressed through the rounds the more autonomy we would attain if we failed to proceed all the way to conclusion. Brazil is willing to continue with the testing in order to guarantee a suitable balance between integration and autonomy, but we have no wish to fully succeed.”
“Therefore I am asking you what our current level of gains amount to, and what it will take to secure an arrangement similar to that which the Ananke Republic currently holds, but on an interstellar scale. We do not wish our furthest colonies to be separated from us, if applicable, nor our strengths diminished. We want to assist Star Force in its endeavors here, and if possible in the wars on the frontier if there is a means to do so, but to do so as part of the system rather than a separate entity.”
“The specifics of how this would work are not clear to me, hence this message. At current we are attempting to assemble enough stockpiles of corovon to meet this round’s requirements, which you know is rather expensive. If we need to meet this requirement to attain more autonomy then so be it, credits well spent, but if we can assimilate into the Star Force structure now under suitable terms we’d prefer to put our credits to more beneficial use than obtaining a backup supply that we wouldn’t require.”
“I am not contacting you to barter, but to seek your counsel and clarification. What do we need to do in order to work from within the Star Force system rather than separate ourselves from it?”
With that he held still for a moment, then reached over and hit the stop button…then the replay and watched it through twice before deeming it sufficient and sending the message off through the comm grid, knowing it would reach Earth within minutes.
Luis stepped off the holopad and took a seat a few steps away, waiting for the reply that usually occurred promptly, given the direct access Davis had afforded him…so long as he didn’t catch him on a sleep cycle, and according to his watch Atlantis time was currently 11:34 am. With a sip of very early morning coffee, Luis sat for a few minutes staring at the wall monitor that showed a dark horizon, with the sun not set to rise for another two hours, then he pulled up a news vid and watched at half volume, consigning himself to wait as long as necessary for the reply so he could respond promptly when it came in.
Davis was in his office, as was typical, when the message came through. He put aside the shipyard expansion plans for Venus orbit and played out the message on his holographic desktop, only mildly surprised by the content. He hadn’t expected any of the nations to actually make it through the verification process, not because it was impossible or unfair, but it required them to have displayed foreplanning prior to the beginning, with it being virtually impossible to throw together a fully capable nation, even at what Davis considered to be minimum standards, within a 5 year span.
He would have given himself a 50/50 chance with a treasure chest of credits and an empty territory purchase, but they weren’t him, nor did they have his experience. That said, Australia, Russia, and Brazil had a decent foothold on the problem given their long and beneficial history with Star Force, though none of them had been where they needed to be, still relying on taxation and a myriad of other old school bad habits to sustain themselves, with Australia being the one to show the most progress.
As it was he figured they alone had a decent shot of making it, for they’d done considerable retooling before the verification edict had come down, and even more so since then…but they still had a long way to go and not a lot of time to do it, so he wasn’t really surprised to hear the Brazilian request. It was both logical and forward thinking, with their efforts to date accomplishing, if nothing else, to show them how incapable they were of true sovereignty.
That put the remaining nations down to three, with Canada having immediately realized that there was no way they could meet the military and corovon requirements on their own. Before they’d hit February they had negotiated a deal to consolidate with New Zealand, abandoning their own bid for sovereignty and adding to that adhoc conglomerate that appeared doomed to fail, yet was limping on far longer than Davis had expected.
Germany had given up a month ago, unable to secure a merger with any of the other nations, leaving the original big 3 plus New Zealand. With Brazil now out, for Davis was going to give them what they wanted, which amounted to a governmental replacement and restructuring that would maintain and upgrade all of Brazil’s current assets while removing their politicians, he figured it was highly likely that one more would go before the year was up, and he was hedging between New Zealand and the Russians.
Australia, he knew, already had a stockpile of corovon because Star Force had recommended they create it more than a century ago. It was insufficient at present, but they were adding to it rapidly and he assumed they’d get the prerequisite amount, along with meeting the other round 3 requirements, most of which they were already in compliance with.
New Zealand he expected to drop this round, but he was hedging his bets as Avril kept pulling one rabbit out of the proverbial hat after another, unwilling to write them completely off. Russia was the question mark, for while they had access to corovon mines of their own, plus a well-established military, they were beset with a number of lingering problems, the biggest of which was their reliance on taxation. With that option now gone they were financially weakened, having to rely on stopgap measures and draining their reserves to stay afloat long enough, they hoped, to begin generating the necessary revenue.
They were fervently cost-cutting wherever they could, including selling off military assets to New Zealand, which was trying to assemble the prerequisite force through acquisitions rather than in-nation builds, which Davis knew they had no time for. The Russian ‘empire’ was larger than Brazil’s, and only slightly smaller than Australia’s, but it was heavier than both with a dense population and a large operating overhead. They had gone for a bulk approach to colonization expansions, building and building with little effort put into efficiency…and now that their heavy taxes were now extinct, that bulk was suffocating them.
Already they’d jettisoned several territories, with Star Force stepping in to stabilize and annex them immediately. It was sloppy and reckless on the Russians’ part, leaving so many people hanging, but they knew Star Force was going to pick up their scraps so Davis didn’t hold it against them officially, but it did attest to their lack of foreplanning, something that was necessary for a nation that expected to survive past today.
But the Russians didn’t have many choices, from their point of view, and were doing whatever they could to survive to the next round of the Nation Games as the media had come to call this contest, and which, Davis admitted, he had structured in a way that gave it a competitive feel. His own purposes behind it were lost on the public, for this was no game, though Star Force being there to pick up the pieces offered a sense of security that was not present in reality…which was what he was trying to hammer home to the nations involved.
They had to be able to survive without him and Star Force, thus he had no qualms about putting the pressure on them in this time-constrained test. If they hadn’t prepared beforehand, and weren’t capable of learning quickly, then he was going to wash his hands of them. The time for tolerating these pretenders was almost over. Either they raised their game to a level he could work with or they’d be annexed into subservient colonies in which Davis could cut out all the dead weight that was dragging them down, replacing their leadership with his own appointees and getting everything moving forward in a typically efficient and redundant Star Force manner.
He did give the Brazilians props though for recognizing the situation for what it was and making the best call for their nation, for which he was going to reward them. Wisdom is what he was most looking for in the verification tests, and they were displaying a considerable amount now.
Davis ran through the list of terms he would need to give them, and decided it was too many to just wing, so he pulled up a writing prompt and keyboard and began making a list. Star Force security, transit, and military applications would assert themselves over what the Brazilians already possessed, along with a number of smaller applications that Star Force handled better with ‘empire’ personnel, but the rest of Brazil, in all its territories and systems, would continue to operate on local assets, though those would be reorganized as deemed necessary by the transitional leader that he would be appointing.
Actually it’d be a large team that would go through and make changes to Brazil where necessary, though in this case he was going to take a personal hand in making those changes. It’d take a chunk out of his available work time, but he felt he owed them a few tweaks here and there where he could make them to keep their national identity more or less intact. They’d been a longtime ally, unlike many of the other nations, and he wanted the new government to reflect that, even if in the end they hadn’t been able to measure up.
Germany was another matter, being a nation that had rode the metaphoric fence throughout its history. Its annexation would leave it geographically intact, but most of its core structure was going to be rewritten into a more or less brand new nation, saving what pieces of it were deemed functional. The colonies it’d absorbed recently wouldn’t stay with it, and split off to form or merge with other factions as deemed prudent.
Brazil would keep all of its, though Davis was undecided as to what to do with Russia when it finally caved. There were large chunks of the nation that were well developed, along with sections that were totally unsustainable. He’d been teasing himself with the mental challenge of how he could salvage their situation if it was his doing, during his off hours, which were few, and while he saw several avenues to pursue, none of them were obvious…and he wasn’t going to give them any tips. This test was about what they could figure out and achieve on their own.
New Zealand, when it finally caved, was a monstrosity that had to be disassembled. Davis hadn’t formed any firm plans as yet, but he’d been floating a few ideas for the Lunar colonies and some of the other off Earth ones, but the conglomeration of territories on planet was a mess that he could tackle in any number of ways.
Australia, if they couldn’t make the leap he was asking of them, would remain intact, much as Brazil would be, for they had been Star Force’s most staunch supporter and attentive student. Davis had already been planning their light annexation, with the only real question being how long it would be until he implemented it.
But in truth, while he spent an amicable amount of time on the nations of Earth, his recent thoughts, when his mind was free to wonder, were focused on what the Archons were doing out there, as he thought of it. He’d never been outside of the Solar System himself, and rarely off Earth. Sometimes he felt like a prisoner in Atlantis, though the only one confining himself there was…himself. Logistically he had to remain here, unless there was a really, really good reason to go elsewhere. Star Force’s empire had grown so large, and the Solar System so densely populated, that he needed to remain here to oversee it while his most closely trusted ‘apprentices’ oversaw the other systems, Hightower first among them and running Epsilon Eridani, Star Force’s second home system.
Once the verification procedure was over and the old nations converted into proper Star Force colonies, a great deal of his attention could be turned elsewhere, for they were really the wildcard in the system. He realized now, as he had somehow missed before, that his focus should be the same as the Archons…the war they were fighting and that would, if not somehow blocked, find its way to Sol and Earth.
Patience, he reminded himself. Only a few more years and his headaches with Earth would be abated. Then, as a united front, they’d turn their full efforts to fueling the monster of an empire that the Archons were creating out there, and which Davis had little to do with. He’d taught them well, or rather, they’d learned well from him, then taken the tools and personnel he’d given them and ran wild with it. They had his full trust, and on occasion, even taught him a thing or two.
The Kiritas in particular intrigued him, and he could sense the immense power they wielded…not in a military sense, but from an economic one. Natural resources were critical to their ability to counter the lizards, and the little aliens were proving to be very adroit at procuring them once given Star Force equipment and training. Randy in particular had done a spectacular job with them and the creation of the Kiritak, with Davis eagerly awaiting any progress reports from Beta Region as he followed their progress.
More and more he found himself wanting to be out there, on the frontier, working with them to build and expand their empire. Occasionally he’d offer suggestions, tweaking some of their plans they sent back for his appraisal, but for the most part they were on their own, sovereign nations above and beyond their Clans. The trailblazers were everything the nations of Earth weren’t, and Davis badly missed their company and counsel.
But they needed him here, and he knew it. Without Sol’s massive industrial machine, the Archons wouldn’t have a tenth of the warfleet they currently fielded, and he knew it had to get larger…much larger, in order to give the trailblazers even a chance of holding back the lizards, which was what he was working on at Venus and other locations. They needed more shipyards and engineers, and were finding the later far easier to acquire than the former. They were especially short of the massive slips necessary to create the progressively larger ship designs that were starting to put them on par with the other races, as far as tonnage was concerned.
Davis was part of a team, and he knew he had to come through on his end, else the trailblazers, no matter how skilled, would be too shorthanded to succeed.
With that thought in mind he set himself to the task of composing the return message to the Brazilian emissary, for once he had that task completed he could return his attention to the important matter at hand…that being Humanity’s continued survival.
8
June 9, 2456
Solar System
Luna
“There’s no way around it,” Jessica said firmly. “You have to meet your quotas.”
“Your requests are putting a strain on our ability to maintain our exports,” Manfred Elon said to her far right on the gigantic ring of a table that seated the 37 colonial heads she’d summoned to the moon. “Without them, we cannot maintain the market you set up to fund your government.”
Jessica leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table.
“If we don’t get that jumpship built, there won’t be a government.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Broncholl said from his seat beside Jessica, “Illumia is feeling the strain as well, but the only way we have even the slimmest hope of keeping to the construction schedule is by going all-in, markets or not. Once this project is complete the flow of natural resources will resume, making this a temporary disruption only.”
“Not if Davis adds another even more ridiculous demand in the final round,” Elon pointed out. “Merkeria is more or less self-sufficient, but to meet your quotas we’re going to have to compromise our reserves and begin scrapping current infrastructure in order to make these quotas. If this was a onetime issue then it might be feasible, but we have no idea what Davis will demand next.”
“No we don’t,” Jessica admitted. “And I agree that building our own jumpship probably isn’t the most drastic item on the Director’s list, but it’s what we have to do in order to stay alive through this round. So unless you want to forfeit, let’s discuss ways of making this happen rather than offering up additional negativity. I know well the strain this is putting on our collective economy, and believe me when I say that I’m having a much harder job holding everything together than you are in your respective colonies.”
“That point is well taken,” the Arcadria Governor emphasized. “You’ve done a miracle of a job holding this group together thus far, but the numbers are just too steep for us to manage.”
“That’s why I asked you here, because you know your colonies better than I do. You can find ways to scrape up more resources that I cannot. We all but gutted our credit reserve buying up corovon, so this next ‘miracle’ is going to have to come from you,” Jessica said, leaning back in her high-backed chair and remaining silent, leaving the floor open for someone else to speak.
“Have you considered a merger with the Russians?”
Jessica looked at the Governor from Channi, a collection of orbital habitats that sat in high Earth orbit beyond Luna. “No, nor have they offered. And I would like to point out the stupidity of such talks now, given that both they and us are already well into the fabrication stages of our jumpships. The time for merger talk would have been at the outset.”
“Our colony will meet its quota,” he insisted, “but the others will not. They cannot. Most are tapped out already, and I’m not taking their word for this, I’ve been going over the numbers. There simply isn’t enough resources off Earth to finish the jumpship, and you wouldn’t be up here trying to shake the proverbial tree if our planetary colonies were putting out. I’m assuming they’re mostly consumptive. Am I correct?”
“Partially,” Jessica allowed. The homeland territories were a considerable draw on resources, but they were also producing specific items that the conglomerate needed, so it wasn’t like they were a dead weight around their neck…as several talking heads in the media had suggested.
“Then I don’t think we’re going to even get close to finishing the jumpship, let alone on time. We have three weeks to dig up additional resources or the production timeline is screwed. If we can’t make it on our own we need to consider all options.”
Several other Governors nodded, and she could sympathize. They were trying to keep their colonies independent, and didn’t truly care who they had to ally with to do it.
“Then let’s discuss all of these ‘options,’” Jessica offered. “If you have something to add, no matter how small, now is the moment, and we’ll take as much time here as needed. If we’re coming to the end of our run, let us make sure we leave no rock unturned.”
Three days later she left Luna via orbital ferry, transitioning from one Star Force starport to another as the dedicated starship carefully flew her and several hundred other people through the mass of stations that littered Earth orbit. Jessica sat in one of the plush passenger seats between two other people, neither of which she knew, sagging heavily as the weight of her responsibility seemed to be crushing her into her seat.
It was over now, and she knew it. She’d convinced the Governors to continue meeting the quotas as much as they realistically could, leaving the door open for her to find another way out of the jam they were in, but what little she and her advisors hadn’t previously considered the Governors had thrown out at her, detailing the ‘end of the road’ scenario they were now in.
Her New Zealand conglomerate was now more or less self-sufficient…but it had few resources left to do anything else other than keep itself running. Davis had said he wasn’t interesting in dealing with weak parasites, and while her nation might have gotten off the parasite rolls they were the textbook definition of weak. Forcing the remaining nations to undergo a construction project of the size and complexity of building a jumpship, even when Star Force had supplied the blueprints, was an all too true test of their industrial muscle…for it was showing they had none.
Constructing a spaceport and starport had been challenging enough, but the jumpship was much larger, and while not one of the monster varieties Star Force was producing nowadays, it contained so much mass that, without the exterior markets to buy resources from, New Zealand was coming up painfully short, and there was no magic wand around to summon up parts that didn’t currently exist.
The Governors had agreed that, unless she could figure out a way to get past this round, it would be preferable to be annexed into Star Force as they were, rather than attempt to solicit a merger with the Russians…not because they didn’t feel that was a workable option, which some people differed on, but because the Russian system of government was not to their liking. An alliance might have worked, but absorption into Star Force, who’d already let the Brazilians maintain most of their former structure, was deemed preferable to conversion into the hierarchical Russian domains.
So they’d basically finished their summit by working out the details of their demise, leaving Jessica without even the slightest flicker of hope of coming up with a solution. She’d gotten so used to ignoring the impossible and finding a way to do it anyway that she hadn’t realized how much of a hole she’d dug herself into, for with each progressive round of testing, New Zealand’s lack of preparedness was becoming more and more obvious, with her no longer able to make feasible adjustments after the fact.
She should have been proud of getting them this far and maintaining their national identity, unlike most of the other nations on Earth that were being cut up and reorganized to Star Force’s liking, but pride was not on her retinue of emotions at present, and the entire trip back to Earth was a dejected affair…which fortunately she was able to endure in private, thanks in large part to the dark wig she wore to conceal her bright blonde mass of hair.
Without the public’s attention on her for the moment, she had a long time to just sit and think, replaying every move she’d made and considering others that she’d passed up, trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong…but in the end she could find no solution, either because there wasn’t one or because she just wasn’t good enough to find it.
She got off the ferry at a Star Force starport, then secured a ride over to the nearby New Zealand version which was already showing a meager profit, despite its hasty construction. There she boarded a dropship and headed down to the planet, landing at the linked spaceport and traveling off on a dedicated rail line that would take her back to Wellington.
The wig was doing enough to camouflage her that she expected the train ride to be equally quiet, but only a few minutes into it a man walked up beside her at the window table she sat at and smiled down at her warmly.
“Rough last few days?”
“More than you know…and I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not in the mood for company just now.”
“I understand,” he said as he sat down opposite her anyway, pulling out an ID card that he slid across the two person table between her elbows and directly under her face as she held her chin in her left hand lazily. “But I’m not here to chitchat or hit on you. I’m here on business.”
Jessica sat up straighter and picked up the ID card, seeing that it tagged him not as a New Zealander, but as an Australian…and a high level member of their government at that.
“We’ve been monitoring you, which was why I was able to hop the same train back at the spaceport. Please don’t take offense, we don’t view you as competition or an opponent, but we wanted to keep tabs on all the other nations involved in the Nation Games. You’ve stood out from the others, and now that your nation is about to default, I’m here to offer you another job.”
Jessica frowned. “Who said we’re on our way out?”
“Your face, for starters. We’ve also been monitoring your economy statistics and know you’re nowhere close to finishing your jumpship…not to mention you don’t have enough corovon to create the drive cores without dipping into your stash, which would also cause you to default.”
Jessica’s face soured even more, though there was also a note of inevitability in it that showed she was starting to vent a bit of her pent up anxiety. “You’re very well informed.”
“We try to be,” he said with a soft smile.
“And what is it you’d like from us? Short on corovon yourselves?”
“No, we have secured an ample supply. There is nothing we’re asking from your government, this is a personal request to you and you alone.”
“So no hope of a bailout merger, I take it?”
“I’m afraid not. While you’ve done well patching together a workable government from disparate nations, Australia prefers to retain our existing…oh, how shall I say it…standards?”
“I envy that,” she admitted. “Do you think you will be able to hold them to conclusion?”
“Whether we can or not we’re not considering any mergers. As to our chances of making it to full sovereignty, that’s what I’m here to maximize. Now that you and your governors have concluded that there is no feasible way forward…”
“You’ve been spying on us too?”
“Making some educated guesses. Stop me if I’m wrong.”
“Go on,” Jessica prompted, leaning back in her seat and removing her elbows from the table.
The Australian repocketed his ID card. “When your nation officially defaults, we’d like you to help us make it through the 5th round. Your, shall we say, scrounging skills are most impressive, and we don’t expect the Star Force Director to make completion of this test anything but near impossible. He wants capable allies, and won’t let us off easy.”
“Have you had this discussion with the Russians?”
“No, they’ve already defaulted, though that hasn’t made the news vids yet. We’ve arranged to purchase a great deal of their equipment, with the credits going to stabilize their already toxic economy and pay off existing debts before Star Force begins reworking, and reworking heavily I would imagine, their governmental structure, which is exceedingly bulbous.”
“Bulbous?”
“Top heavy would be another term, unlike yours. You’ve managed to run your nation with what amounts to a skeleton crew.”
“A crew of skeletons maybe,” she said sarcastically, referencing the long hours they’d been working. “What is it that you’d like me to do for you?”
“Troubleshoot…as a short term hire, if you prefer, but we’re offering a full position and citizenship within Australia. We’d like you to become one of us and, if we’re able to pass this current test, help us plot Australia’s future forward.”
“A lot of ‘ifs’ there.”
“That we are aware.”
Jessica twisted her lips up in a curious expression and leaned forward, noticing a couple of eavesdroppers nearby. She lowered her voice.
“What exactly do you need me for?”
“Thinking outside the box.”
“You have a box?”
The Australian smiled. “Are you always this charming when sleep deprived?”
“I can never seem to remember. Now, what is it specifically that you need help with,” she pushed.
He lowered his voice, also noticing a few eyes turning their way.
“Using the tools we’ve got in new ways.”
“You sure you’re not hitting on me?”
“No…should I be?”
“It might help your selling point.”
“I didn’t realize I had so many assets at my disposal.”
“Just a few, but then again, remember where I’m sleep deprived?”
“Yes, but any agreement here and now has to hold up in the light of tomorrow’s clarity, so I was going with the logic angle.”
“Sensible, though not as much fun.”
“I’m here on business. Fun can wait till later.”
“How much later?”
“How soon do you default?”
Jessica sat back again, laughing once. “Well I will say, if nothing else, you’ve lightened my mood, and I thank you for that.”
“There’s no rush. Take a few days and think about it…or a few months. We’d like to have you onboard, though, when we hear the round 5 terms.”
“Assuming you make it that far.”
“We plan to.”
“Such confidence. Reminds me of me a couple years ago.”
“We’ll take that as a compliment then.”
“We?”
“It’s a team effort, thus a team compliment.”
“I also have a team…one that’s not going to be easy to walk away from.”
“Once you default, it won’t truly matter, will it?”
“That depends on the transition and how much sovereignty Davis leaves us with.”
“Do you have good people?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then leave your former nation in their hands and come join ours. It’ll be Star Force calling the shots soon enough anyway.”
Jessica looked out the window at the low level buildings carpeting the landscape, with larger clusters popping up at various points in the distance where the ‘cities’ were located, at least those she could see around the mountains.
“I just got everything working here…” she complained sarcastically.
“A good reason not to waste the experience.”
Jessica glanced back at him, then returned her eyes to the window. “You’re an awfully smooth talker for someone so young.”
“Truth works wonders,” he said, seeing a ping of respect in her eyes. “And in fact, while many within Star Force might consider me young, I’m actually your elder by a couple of decades.”
Jessica raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve read your file,” he explained.
She looked at him closely. “So that’s what self-sufficiency looks like in a male.”
“Oh, now don’t start gender bashing. I’ll be forced to reciprocate and spoil this rapport we seem to be developing.”
“Yet you’re only humoring me.”
“Like you said, you needed a morale boost.”
“For a pep squad you’re doing quite well.”
“You’ve got skills that we need, and New Zealand no longer does,” he said, letting the playfulness dissipate a bit.
“You may be right, but like you said I’m sleep deprived. No answer I give now will hold up.”
“Which is why I’m not asking for one, just laying out the offer.”
“Laying out…” she said, considering his word choice with a smirk.
“Were the situation different, I might have had a second meaning there, but given your status and importance to Australia, I’m sad to say my intent is entirely professional.”
Jessica fake sighed. “Not exactly what an overworked, sex-deprived girl wants to hear.”
“Sometimes the truth hurts.”
“But we need it none the less. Any more innuendo-laced compliments burning on your brain, or is that the end of your pitch?”
“I think I’ve made my point.”
“Not nearly far enough.”
The Australian smiled again. “If and when you come to a decision,” he said, pulling out a datachip and placing it on the table in front of her. “Now, before my professionality flags any further, I’ll leave you to think…or nap,” he amended as he stood up and saw her very lovely face from another angle.
“Would a forehead red mark be unprofessional?” she asked candidly.
“It won’t diminish our interest in you by the slightest.”
“Good,” she said, offering him a faint smile as he walked off and into the next car. Once he was out of view she glanced around, taking stock of those near her and deciding they were unimportant enough. She crossed her arms in front of her on the table and lowered her head on top of her wrists, realizing just how tired she was as she phased out into the bliss of the crash nap within a matter of seconds.
9
December 26, 2456
Solar System
Earth
Jessica arrived at the primary airport in Wellington with three large bags of belongings and boarded a flight for Canberra early in the morning. With Christmas festivities over, she’d wanted to get a fresh start on her new job, in which she’d agreed to come on as a temporary advisor to the Australian government. She left with no fanfare, for she hadn’t told anyone the date or time of her departure, but she had gracefully stepped aside from the transition effort as the New Zealand government she’d put together began to be cut up and reorganized by Star Force administrators.
She could have helped with that, but no one begrudged her leaving it to others. She’d done everything she could to keep New Zealand independent, and no one of merit blamed her for the failure. In fact most people gave her credit for keeping them alive through to the fourth round, which would afford them additional privileges after the transfer, though what exactly they were Star Force had never spelled out. If it was anything like what the Brazilians had got, then her country would remain more or less intact, though with the adhoc conglomerate she’d hastily formed, there was no way to be sure how much of it Star Force would keep together.
But that was behind her now, professionally and privately. She had no regrets, ultimately deciding that New Zealand just hadn’t been strong enough entering the verification testing to make it through. Had it been a challenge where everyone started off on an equal footing then it would have been a different story, because there would have been a way to win and it would have been her fault for not finding it, but in this game that wasn’t the case, as Davis had made clear the various nations had to think and act for themselves, and not just be led around by Star Force’s edicts.
As the large Australian mantis took off, she and some 243 other passengers watched the urban landscape beneath them eventually drop off into ocean, then enjoyed a calm, almost unchanging view for an hour or so until the Australian coast came into view well below them. Jessica watched it on the viewscreens, having only visited twice in her life. While New Zealand was heavily urbanized, Australia was not…at least not in the conventional sense.
Even from the extreme height the mantis was flying she could see the tiny shapes of the spires that dotted the coast, each of which was a large building constructed by the Australian government. Taking a cue from Star Force, they’d abandoned all private property rights and systematically rebuilt their cities with a forward thinking design.
Each spire was 1800m high, and identical to all the others, inside of which there were multiple levels of ‘private’ property. While technically the government owned the building and maintained it, they allowed the individuals they’d previously dispossessed to buy permanent leases inside for a very high cost, or pay a regular, cyclical lease as most people did…but not for living quarters. Those were free to everyone, with other pursuits, business or personal, requiring currency to attain.
The spire design was unique to Australia, with a very thin tip that only widened considerably when it got close to the base, which splayed out like a suction cup against the surface. This allowed considerable airspace between the spires, taking away from the claustrophobic feel of most cities on Earth. Each building flowed into those beside it, allowing for no land space or external streets. Everyone was housed inside, with some surface-top recreational facilities giving people access to the sun and air in the wide valleys between spires.
Though she couldn’t see it from here, for the coasts were covered with what looked like metallic hairs, the interior of the continent had been left to the wild country it had always been. As they needed, Australia was adding more spires and nipping into the raw landscapes a little more with each decade that passed, but they had not allowed any other building in the ‘natural’ regions, preserving both the land space for future building and what had become a rarity on the overcrowded planet...wide open spaces.
Australia was the one country that still had them, which garnered a huge tourist market which they restricted to manageable levels. With such high population on Earth, the Aussies had become more and more clandestine, keeping to themselves and holding others out, not for the purposes of being rude or selfish, but in order to keep their country in proper order, whereas other nations had let the crushing mass of Humanity turn it into a chaotic and often deadly circus.
As the mantis flew lower, heading for an airport in the nation’s capitol, with a thin band of spireless land separating the coastal ‘cities’ from Canberra. Once it crossed over that nature preserve the aircraft was flying at less than 3 miles in altitude, with the spires now looking more impressive and very lethal, as if they were there to protect the surface from murderous balloons coming down from orbit.
Jessica had to admit, that of all the nations, or rather she should say ‘former’ nations of Earth, Australia was the closest to Star Force’s level of civilization, though they definitely had their own unique motif. She didn’t know if they’d be able to hold onto their sovereignty or not, but they were far beyond New Zealand’s level and she could feel it in the city architecture as the mantis came to a stop over top one of the few breaks in the spire field and hovered in place for a moment before descending down to a landing pad along with a lot of other air traffic coming in and out.
As their elevation dropped, one spire stood out from amongst the rest. It was taller than the others by a mile, thicker too, and was her eventual destination. Odd how it only showed up now when she could see it from the side, before it had more or less blended in with the other pointy structures, all of which were the same dull white coloration.
When her flight set down she exited through a gantry that nested up to the mantis, allowing her and the other passengers a level walk off into the terminal where she retrieved her bags and was met by an Australian who took her and her luggage off through the undercity beneath the spires via a transit car that ran on a set of tube tracks that made up for a lack of vehicular streets. Once inside, her attendant simply input the destination code from a navigation map and the automated system scurried them off through the tube system that didn’t allow for any view other than distance marker light bars out the window/door.
Jessica couldn’t feel the acceleration and deceleration as the car switched tracks and turned corners, for it had an onboard inertial dampening system, making the 12 minute trip feel as if they’d simply stepped into another room and sat down for a rest. When they eventually arrived she wheeled her stack of bags out into the terminal and was led to a smaller elevator car to take them up into the prime spire they were now situated beneath.
Like the transit network, the elevator system operated the same way, allowed for vertical and horizontal movement within the building, all of which was unfelt. When the double doors slid open again she saw what was apparently a residential area, for there was a large circular square with a fountain in the center and a dozen or so doors around the perimeter, along with three hallway entrances. The attendant led her down the right hall, passing even more doors, until they came to another circular foyer, this one with a large potted tree in the center.
“Here you are,” he said, bringing her to one of the doors on the curved wall. “Access code 217. You can reset it internally using the same number,” he said, punching the exterior keypad and opening up her new quarters. He stepped aside and let her enter first, dragging her luggage behind her.
When she entered the lights automatically came on, revealing a very large and well-furnished quarters. Too high end, in her estimation, for it was far better than any residence she’d had in New Zealand, even when she was the defacto head of government.
“All mine?” she asked sarcastically.
“I can provide you a map if you like. The bedroom is over in that quadrant somewhere, I believe.”
Jessica smiled. “I’ll manage. When and where am I supposed to report for duty?”
“You’ll be working exclusively out of this building, but the elevators won’t allow you to use them without a special keycard,” he said, holding up his own. “I’ll make sure you get yours within the next few hours, but feel free to move anywhere around the spire by foot. There are food, shopping, and entertainment facilities inside so the denizens don’t have to travel far, though once you’re settled feel free to explore the city. The buildings all look the same, but the interiors are very different.”
“I’m not here on a vacation, I’m here to work,” she reminded him as she left her bags in the center of the entry foyer’s floor and meandered over into the main living area…which was the size of a large patio sunken down into the floor with wall-spanning vid screens displaying a fake, green exterior of an encroaching jungle landscape. Two other doors exited from it, leading to additional rooms.
“In truth you’ll not be needed until after the 1st, but it may be useful to familiarize yourself with our staff and work areas. I can give you a tour after you settle in here.”
“Including economic data?”
“That you’ll have to ask someone else for. I’m just the tour guide, ma’am.”
“Is Vincent Ray also located in this spire?”
“He is.”
“Can you tell him that I’ve arrived and would like to speak with him as soon as possible?”
“No need,” a voice from behind them said.
Jessica turned around, mildly surprised to see her recruiter there…but then again, she’d half expected him to be the one to pick her up at the airport.
“I’ll take it from here, thank you,” the man said to the attendant, who nodded and walked off.
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Jessica said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not needed till the 1st I hear?”
“The word ‘need’ has been misconstrued,” he said, walking over and stopping a meter in front of her. “You’re free to start work before then, but once Stosur gets back from Atlantis with the round 5 details we don’t want to waste a minute of time, meaning we want you present for all meetings thereafter.”
“That’s better,” she said, loosening her arms and turning her back on him. She walked down into her pit of a living area and looked around the huge room, hearing him follow her down.
“Sufficient?” he asked.
“You know damn well it’s more than I’m used to.”
“Actually no, I don’t. Some private quarters are far more extravagant than this, and most of the ones I’ve seen pictures of were not in Australia. Some were from New Zealand, so I assumed you’d been given the royal treatment when you’d assumed the emissary post.”
“I was working, not relaxing.”
“Well, now you can do both.”
“Unless you have some specific task for me, I’d like to start with a complete overview of your economy and infrastructure. Can I access that information from here or do I need to be on a secure level?”
“I can bring it here, along with some food if you like? I don’t believe the pantry has been stocked as of yet, and if you want some more complicated plates we’ll have to order out, though there is a standard cafeteria one level above.”
“Order in and bring the information with you,” Jessica said without hesitation. “And make sure you’re available for extended periods of time. I need someone with firsthand knowledge of your systems to guide me through the basics.”
A look of resignation crossed over his features. “If I must.”
“You must,” she said coyly.
“Shall I also move into the guest room?”
“I’m not here for sex, I’m here to work. So don’t get your hopes up.”
“Never crossed my mind…but it does seem to be on yours,” he said, flipping the onus back to her expertly.
She smiled, suddenly caught off guard. “Perhaps it is.”
“What would you like to eat,” he said, returning the conversation back towards professional.
She squinted at him. “Actually, you can probably tell me. After all, you did a thorough background check before recruiting me.”
“Background checks don’t usually involve popular foods unless you have an allergy.”
Jessica didn’t answer, merely raising her eyebrows.
Vincent rolled his eyes. “Pizza, pancakes, or lasagna?”
She nodded fervently. “You did, didn’t you?”
“We like to be thorough.”
“Including my taste in men?”
“If that was taken into consideration, I was never told.”
“Hmph…pancakes and sugar sticks, if you have them.”
“Easy enough. I’ll fetch the food and leave you to unpack.”
“Get my ID card on your way,” she added as he began to walk out.
“Of course,” he said, then disappeared out of view and earshot.
Jessica sighed and sat down on one of the petite, but very comfortable chairs, sinking down into the cushions and leaning her head back, looking up at the high ceiling. This place she could definitely get used to.
A week later she and Vincent met up with the Australian leadership in a planning area of the governmental spire as Stosur was returning from Atlantis. They had 5 Regents, all of whom were elected from a pool of high ranking personnel in the 5 divisions of their government…Bioharvest, Mining, Industry, Security, and Research. Like a few other republics that had been established by Star Force, the people didn’t vote on a popularity contest, allowing unskilled individuals into positions of power. All ‘candidates’ had to have a level 12 rating, the highest possible within their respective divisions, to qualify for the elections that were held every 10 years, with each division staggered into two year intervals.
Stosur had only been a level 11 bioharvest administrator, and he’d confided in her in several long talks they’d had leading up to the new year that he had no idea why Davis had put him on the list. Vincent had told her that Stosur had been picked off the list by the Regents because he had a solid grasp of logistics and a knack for creating efficiency in places thought already to have been maxed out in that department.
Stosur had been more than welcoming of Jessica, whom he regarded as a peer in this whole endeavor, essentially giving her an equal spot to his at their small leadership table, and the Regents hadn’t disagreed. The seven of them, plus a few extras like Vincent, who were level 12 officials, were waiting for Stosur in a large, communal workstation that had several platform tables with touchscreen interface and individual holoprojectors…while there were two large scale units on either end of the elliptical chamber. One showed a diagram of the Solar System with all of the Australian colonies highlighted, while the other showed a schematic breakdown of their economy, with a swarm of numbers and graphs eating up the airspace.
Eventually Stosur walked in, with the door sliding shut behind him, and Jessica could immediately tell he wasn’t in a good mood.
“I know that look,” she said as the others remained silent.
Stosur walked up to the table most of them were standing around and leaned his elbows on it, lowering his head slightly as he shook it.
“We’re in trouble.”
“Do tell,” the Bioharvest Regent said.
“For the final test Davis is citing our need to be able to deal with unforeseen cataclysm, and to do so he is providing that cataclysm. Beginning on the 5th, he is levying a tax on all our possessions within the Solar System.”
Jessica’s face scrunched up. “A tax? Star Force doesn’t use taxes.”
“It’s for the purpose of simulation,” Stosur explained, running his fingers through his short, loose hair. “Should we lose a part of our infrastructure, we have to be able to maintain vital services without it. Redundancy is the lesson here, though he didn’t say it outright.”
“We’re already fairly redundant,” the Mining Regent noted.
Stosur shook his head. “He’s hitting us hard, judged by a set of economic variables.”
The emissary pulled out a datachip and stuck in into the table’s appropriately sized slot, bringing up a slew of graphs on the tabletop.
“If any of these indicators drop below the red marks, even for a single hour, we lose,” Stosur said, visibly vexed.
“What’s the tax?” Jessica asked, knowing that it had to be something fierce.
“Half of all our bioharvest produce, industrial produce, and natural resources will be given over to Star Force…though our stockpiles are immune. It only effects the active production. Also, there is a 50% tax on all revenue, not profits, but sheer revenue that our government functions on.”
“With our reserves having dwindled due to the jumpship project,” the Industry Regent remarked angrily.
“I don’t see how we can manage on half resources,” the Bioharvest Regent warned, with the others nodding their agreement.
“Not just manage,” Stosur corrected, “but keep our economy afloat in all categories,” he said, looking at Jessica. “This is his last hurdle to cross, and he’s sticking it to us hard. Any ideas?”
All eyes turned to her, and she was very thankful for those long flirtatious, but ultimately nonsexual study sessions with Vincent.
“A few, if you’re willing to get creative.”
“Define creative,” the Security Regent asked.
Jessica glanced at Stosur, referencing a conversation they’d had about her experience with New Zealand’s unsuccessful bid.
“Painfully scrappy.”
The emissary nodded once. “Let’s get to it then. We’ve got two days before the tax is implemented.”
Jessica suppressed a smirk and turned to Vincent. “Food, boy, we’re going to be pulling an all-nighter.”
He laughed once, then glanced at Stosur and reluctantly headed for the door. “I’ll see what I can manage.”
10
January 1, 2458
Solar System
Earth
Jessica followed Stosur up the circular staircase that led into Davis’s almost mythical office atop Atlantis, immediately seeing the iconic 360 degree wraparound window that showed the setting sun just nipping at the ocean off to the west. At the top step she paused slightly, spinning around for the full view and seeing nothing but open floor space save for the single desk on the north end where the Star Force Director currently sat.
She followed Stosur over to him, where he motioned for them to sit down in two of the small chairs opposite him.
“I must say, I am pleasantly surprised,” Davis began, looking out at the pair over his crisscrossed fingers as he set his elbows on his desktop, forming a rough triangle. “At the outset I didn’t think any nation would be able to complete all 5 five rounds.”
“Is that confirmation?” Stosur asked. “You had mentioned other factors being in play earlier.”
“So I did, and yes it is.”
The Australian emissary smiled, glancing over his shoulder at Jessica who returned the smirk.
“Where do we go from here?”
Davis tapped one of his fingers against the others. “Your work isn’t over just yet. In fact, it’s just beginning…assuming you’re willing to stay on.”
Stosur frowned. “For what, exactly?”
“As Australia’s leader.”
“The Regents are the ones in control. I was just a stand in.”
Davis shook his head. “No. Australia may still hold to a measure of democracy, but there must be a single individual through which I will work.”
“I thought they were sovereign now,” Jessica pointed out.
“They are,” Davis confirmed, “but that doesn’t mean they can do whatever they want. It means they’re a part of the team who can add their own flair to the mix, for better or worse. While I’ll be keeping tabs on Australia, and step in if things start to get out of control, your nation will police and manage itself with your interactions with me occurring through one and only one individual, and that person can’t be a messenger. It has to be the leader.”
“And if they don’t want a single leader?” Jessica asked.
“Then they don’t get their sovereignty,” Davis said flatly.
“It’s not sovereignty if there are restrictions,” Jessica argued while Stosur simply looked on.
“You don’t have the freedom to screw up or be stupid. Sovereignty isn’t about privilege, it’s about responsibility…and I have neither the time nor the inclination to babysit incompetent nations any further. Australia has earned a measure of peerdom along with Canderous, the Clans, the Kiritas, and the Calavari, but in truth you don’t belong in that group. You are a child that has a lot of growing up to do, which is why I need a single leader to deal with as you make strides to close the gap.”
“I’m willing,” Stosur offered.
“It’s done then. You now command Australia, and how you deal with the Regents is your own concern. Keep them, replace them…I will not interfere. That’s an internal Australia matter to deal with, so long as you don’t start taking the nation backwards.”
“As for you,” Davis said, looking at Jessica. “Why are you here?”
“She’s as much responsible for our success as I am,” Stosur said defensively. “I asked her to come along.”
“And is she staying with you?” Davis asked, though still staring at Jessica, which made her feel very uncomfortable. Attractive as he was, there was a look of raw power behind his eyes that made her feel very unsettled, especially with the cold tone in his voice.
“We’d be honored to keep her with us, but her contract expired this morning,” Stosur said, looking over at her.
“I haven’t made any plans.”
“So you’re here as a spectator?” Davis asked.
“I suppose you could call me that.”
“Should I not have brought her?” Stosur asked, steering the conversation back to himself.
“I’m curious as to why you did. The invitation was just for you.”
“We’ve been working so closely together that it just seemed natural…and given that she was already an emissary I didn’t think it would be an issue.”
“It’s not,” Davis said, dismissing any sense of misgivings. “I’m merely curious as to how you plan to move forward…and yet she doesn’t seem to have decided.”
“A day ago the round was still live,” she reminded him.
“A lot can happen in a day,” he said, turning his attention back to Stosur. “You’ve succeeded in earning your place at the big table, but you’re going to have to keep improving and upgrading your nation in order to stay there. To facilitate that purpose I’m reopening full access to the Star Force markets and returning the resources and credits we syphoned off from you over the past year. It is your responsibility to see to it that Australia doesn’t become dependent on the markets.”
“Furthermore, as now a full part of Star Force our weapons tech will become available to you, but it is only for the purpose of your security forces. You will not share it with others, and you will not permit it to be leaked or stolen as you build a properly equipped military to supplement Star Force’s fleet in the defense of your territories here and elsewhere. A police force is not sufficient. You must become a war-capable nation like the others.”
“Understood,” Stosur said, matching the steel in Davis’ voice as he sensed the importance of what the man was saying.
“Your economy is still weak, as is your industrial and shipbuilding base. You must strengthen them and all other aspects of Australia. Do not depend upon private industry for anything. Allow it to exist and use it in the interim, but you have to transition all necessities over to government production, leaving only luxuries for the private markets, along with redundant production if they wish. Your economy will stay linked and open with the rest of Star Force, which is different from the others. Use this to your advantage, but waste the opportunity for growth that I’m giving you and I’ll rescind your sovereignty.”
“You are far behind where you need to be,” Davis said bluntly. “Maintaining the status quo isn’t enough. You have to grow and grow fast, which is why I’m letting you keep permanent access to the markets and private industry, both in your nation and throughout Star Force’s colonies. The Clans and Canderous will still keep their economies private, but under certain necessary or emergency conditions trading with them is permitted. You won’t have contact with the Kiritas or Calavari in the foreseeable future.”
“What exactly do you envision us becoming?”
“Someone I don’t have to keep looking over their shoulder to stay on task.”
“What can we do to help the war effort?” Stosur asked more directly.
“Keep yourself from becoming a liability,” Davis said, ticking that item off on his thumb. “Protect your own territories so we won’t have to devote ships to them, become an exporter of resources and tech that can feed the line troops, Canderous, or the Clans on the frontier while being safely within our protected zones, increase your population as much as you can support, and begin colonizing new territories as I make them available to you,” he finished on his pinky finger.
Stosur nodded. “You want us to step up to the plate as much as we can.”
“As little as that will be in the overall picture, yes. I want you to become an asset to Star Force.”
“Then that is what we shall become,” he said confidently.
“Make it happen, Regents or no,” Davis said with a nod. “Now, what about you?”
“What about me?” Jessica asked.
“Are you planning to stay with Australia, return to New Zealand, or work for me?”
Jessica raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize that third option was on the table.”
“It is as of now. I know how integral you were in keeping New Zealand in play for as long as you did, and despite that failure you proved yourself adept and useful, then used those skills again to assist Australia who, despite several useful talents, tends to have a hard time thinking outside the box…especially the Regents.”
“Point taken,” Stosur admitted.
“And what would I be doing for you?” Jessica asked.
“Star Force has differing methods, as well as different resource opportunities that you’ve not had available. We’re starting up new colonies in other systems, and if you wish, I’ll appoint you to head up one.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How big and in what system?”
“A full planetoid and several options, all of which are a considerable distance from here.”
“Frontier?”
“No, edge of the Core Region.”
“The frontier inside the frontier?” she asked.
Davis responded by activating his desk’s holoprojector and giving them a glimpse at the master map of all of Star Force. He zoomed in to show the Core Region where nearly all of Humanity resided, with seven systems around the edge being highlighted.
“I’m expanding out into these systems, each of which has multiple planetoids tagged for habitation. Some are environmentally friendly, others are not. Canderous and the Clans are also taking part, but the bulk of the colonization will be regular Star Force colonies. If and when Australia gets itself in a strong enough position, they will also be given a planetoid or two to colonize…if there are any left by then.”
Stosur cracked a smile. “Challenge accepted.”
“Do I get to pick?” Jessica asked, only half sarcastic.
“You won’t be the first insystem. There will be a Duke present to oversee all system activities, based in another colony that will have a head start on yours, but it won’t be able to offer much in the way of help in the beginning, so you’ll have to make do with the cargo shipments as they come in and work towards setting up your own production infrastructure, with the ultimate goal of becoming self-sufficient.”
“You really should say ‘self-sustaining,’ so as not to confuse the meaning with biological self-sufficiency,” Jessica noted.
“You’re not the first to suggest that.”
Jessica chewed on her lower lip for a moment as she thought quickly. “Will I become a member of Star Force or will this be contract work?”
“A member.”
“What level?”
“6.”
“So no pay then?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Depends how long I will be there.”
“Indefinitely. Several decades at minimum.”
“And how long do I have to decide?”
Davis glanced down at his wristwatch/communicator. “Say about 5 minutes.”
“5 minutes?!”
“If it’s something you have to think through, then you’re not the person for the job. You’ll be building everything from scratch, making it up as you go, so the only thing to consider is whether you want to accept the challenge…or not. That shouldn’t take more than 30 seconds.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Davis echoed, watching her closely.
She didn’t say anything for a moment, thinking hard about various possibilities…then she took the Director’s suggestion and just let all the details wash from her head and look at the offer from a fresh perspective.
“An entire planet?”
“Or moon. It wouldn’t be shared, with all the territory and resources yours for the consumption.”
“You really think I’m qualified for that?”
“Everyone has to take a leap at some point, and you’ve shown me enough skill and improvisation over the past years to make me willing to trust you on this.”
“Coming from someone so methodical that sounds almost reckless.”
“Risk is our business,” Davis said, using one of the Archons’ favorite quotes from Captain Kirk.
“What would my title be?”
“Baron.”
“A level 6 Baron?”
“No newb is going straight to level 7,” Davis said with an incredulous look.
“A what?”
“Newb means rookie.”
“She’s not exactly a rookie,” Stosur chimed in.
“She is as far as Star Force is concerned,” Davis explained. “She has to learn our methods and procedures. As it is, no one from the outside has ever been appointed Baron, and I’m only doing it because I think she’s quick enough to handle the learning curve without it being a detriment to the colony.”
“That doesn’t exist yet?” Jessica asked.
“Not a single ship has landed, other than survey teams.”
“And you don’t even know the location?”
“We can choose now, if you’re onboard?”
Jessica sighed. “As far as presents go, no man has ever given me an entire planet…or moon…before. I don’t see how a girl can say no to that.”
“Then let’s pick out one, shall we?” Davis said, pulling up the seven systems’ individual maps side by side. “The blue ones are where we currently have startup colonies. The green are your potentials.”
Jessica saw there were many, from 2 possibilities in the Therion System to some 12 in Nirrel.
“Which are Earth-type habitable?”
“8 are marginal, with only 2 similar to Earth conditions,” Davis said, bringing up the two planets, one in Nirrel and the other in Merkle. The one in Merkle was a heavy grav world, marked as 2.3g, which made it an absolute monster that would require artificial gravity to make it habitable, meaning one couldn’t go walking around the countryside, but they could have exposed city tops and open air parks so long as the inertial dampening fields covered them.
The other was the reverse, being a small moon with a gravity of .45g. That would also require artificial gravity to make it habitable, otherwise her population would grow weak from muscle atrophy…but they could roam the countryside freely and live without worry of being crushed should the AG fail.
“I’ll leave the big one to your people, but that moon looks right about my size,” she joked, putting her ring finger up underneath it as if it were a gem.
“That one doesn’t have a name yet,” Davis told her as he brought the small icon up to full size, showing her the moon. “Care to do the honors?”
Jessica looked at the sparse lakes and thick forests, up through which rose several steep mountain chains, with her imagination quickly running back to a childhood story of a magical planet inhabited by elves and dragons.
“I think I’ll call it Adria.”
“Adria it is then,” Davis said, inputting the name onto the map, with the update immediately going out across the comm network to every other linked map, eventually making it all the way out to Namek some weeks later, along with several other small updates, messages, and news packets. One of those packets was a forward from the Alliance relay system, having gone through Epsilon Eridani and then shuffled out through the Alpha Region interstellar relay network to the lizard frontier where Paul was still stationed.
Activity along the border had been up and down over the years, with every lizard push having been thwarted by a Star Force counterattack, along with the Humans managing to take a few lizard systems here and there, but the boundary line remained much the same, for Paul didn’t want to extend it too far past Namek and the other strongholds he was setting up against the eventual lizard onslaught that Kara had warned them about.
In between Namek and the Core Region was the vast Alpha Region, the outermost third of which Paul was dotting with new colonies and bases, thickening their band of resistance against the lizards and allowing for reinforcement options they previously didn’t have given the remoteness of the area. Every year that passed Paul, considered to be one of Star Force’s ‘master builders,’ metaphorically dug in deeper, extending their ‘wall’ against the lizards in 5 directions…up, down, left, right, and backward in the hopes of blocking the enemy’s advance, given that the galactic plane was so thick that there was a mass of star systems above and below them.
Those systems were an inroad for the lizards, so Paul was stretching out Star Force’s reach further into them, blocking tendrils of lizard territory that were poking in that direction and forming a massive ‘shield’ around the end of Alpha Region. That barrier, as it was, couldn’t stop the lizards from moving through, for space was vast and a jumpship only stopping in a system for a redirect was hard to detect, let alone intercept and stop before it made its next jump out.
The key was, Paul knew, to make the lizard supply lines so long that any assault force they sent past the Namek area was doomed to fail, either in the initial invasion of whatever system or world they chose, or in the quickly ensuing counterattack that Star Force was gearing all of their systems up for with dedicated fleets strategically positioned for just that type of mission should the need arise.
They didn’t have nearly enough yet in Alpha Region to establish a proper defensive line, but Paul was working on it, even as he monitored the events on the Calavari front, and kept updated with news from the other regions, including Davis’s long overdue annexation of Earth.
One of the message packets that came through with the map update got the attention of one of the Archons on Namek immediately, who took it via datapad all the way into the sanctum where Paul was running his pace laps and all the way out onto the track, handing it to him as the Archons ran side by side for a few steps.
Paul kept running until he saw the contents, then gave the acolyte a telepathic reassurance that he had been right to interrupt his workout. The ranger coasted to a stop and hopped off to the inside of the track where he read through the full Alliance report detailing activity on the lizard border of Calavari space.
5 star systems had fallen in the past three months, with another 8 currently under assault, all of which formed a short knife blade into the gut of Calavari territory, despite the Kvash fleets that had been positioned in that area. They’d been run off due to overwhelming lizard numbers, and the lightly defended Calavari worlds had seen their defenses obliterated before they had the chance to evacuate more than a handful ships, barely enough to get the word out as the lizards hit the local relays, beginning to sever links in the Alliance’s communication chain and split the Kvash and Bsidd off from the Hycre and Star Force.
Paul stared at the little knife blade of quickly captured systems, seeing a great deal more vulnerable worlds around them that the Calavari wouldn’t have a hope of defending with their fleets having been drawn away to fight the Nestafar…and even if they had been there, the outcome would have been the same, though somewhat delayed, for the lizards were finally coming for them in force, now that their treasonous ally had finally weakened them near to the breaking point.
“It’s starting,” Paul said to the acolyte as he handed him the datapad and stepped back onto the track just in time to catch his pacing marker as it came around for another lap. He took off running again and locked into its speed, with his mind going strategic and sifting through the various implications, all of which led to one conclusion.
The Calavari empire was doomed.
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1
May 22, 2458
Solar System
Earth
Rio Jakson sat atop one of hundreds of short skyscrapers in Riverside, California with his back resting against a monument pedestal dedicated to someone who did something a long time ago with no real significance. The letters were mostly worn off, and in truth no one cared about the small monument, but it did make for a good spot to sit on the rooftop garden/park and look out over the city, for all of the buildings were bumping up against the mandatory height restrictions, meaning there was nothing taller in this area to obscure your view of the sky.
The 17 year old sat a few meters from the clear fence that surrounded the pentagon-shaped building that was both his home, school, grocery store, fitness center, and all around prison. It had been designed to give the residents just about everything they needed indoors in an attempt to diminish the amount of traffic that plagued the area, and to Rio that meant he was virtually a prisoner, for security wouldn’t let the ‘children’ outside the building without their parents’ permission.
The open air up top was his only reprieve from the claustrophobia inside the building. His parents weren’t rich, nor were they poor, but land space was at such a premium that every building in the U.S. was designed to maximize internal space…or at least every building in the metropolitan areas, which in California’s case covered pretty much the entire state.
He, like many other teenagers, tried to push the boundaries of the residential complex, and had found that this roof was the best option they had, and as such it was usually crowded. This particular spot along the edge Rio favored because it was away from all the recreation areas, giving him a more or less peaceful spot to relax, though he could still hear the sounds of a pickup volleyball game going on behind him in the ‘sand box’ that covered the central portion of the roof.
“Hey,” Nadia said, coming up from behind Rio on his left and dropping a long, flexible tube in a wrapper in his lap as she sat down next to him and scrunched up against his bare arm despite the oppressive heat that was only now just beginning to cool with a stiff breeze.
“Hey,” Rio answered his girlfriend back as he tore open the sugar stick, pulled it out and split it in two, giving her the bottom half that contained the cherry and grape flavoring that she liked, while he kept the lime and strawberry sections for himself as he got a whiff of her marine-scented perfume as she turned her head and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before gnawing into her half of the foodstuff.
“They sure aren’t wasting any time,” she commented, gesturing to the half-constructed tower in the distance that had already risen above the height restrictions of the other buildings. It was several miles away, but it was so large that it was impossible to miss and dominated the local skyline.
“Star Force doesn’t mess around,” Rio commented, drawing a look from Nadia.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded, poking him in the chest for emphasis.
Rio sighed. “How do you always know?”
“I can hear it in your voice…now spill.”
“You’re not going to like it,” he warned her.
“Now you have to tell me,” she said, scooting away just enough that she could turn and face him. “What’s wrong?”
“That’s what’s wrong,” Rio said, pointing out into the city.
“The tower?”
“No, everything else,” Rio said with disgust. “Everyone here, they’re going nowhere. Doing nothing. Hell, half the people in this building haven’t gone outside it in years. They just sit here stagnating, and for what?”
“We all get spooked, Rio. This isn’t your first time. I nearly had a panic attack three weeks ago in the hall outside the locker room. We manage it and move on, like always.”
“Move on to where exactly?” he asked with a touch of anger in his voice.
Nadia gave him an incredulous look. “Move on, move on. What do you think I mean?”
“I think you don’t know what you mean.”
“Now you better explain what you mean…”
“Or what, you won’t talk to me for three days? Then we make up and continue on…doing what? What is anyone around here doing?”
“Everyone is adjusting to the Star Force takeover. Things aren’t going to be the same anymore,” she said, gesturing with her hand towards the tower under construction, one of many popping up across California to house the transitional personnel that were already reworking the local infrastructure and social systems…including the schools, though those efforts hadn’t reached their building yet.
Rio shook his head. “Good riddance, but what is anyone going to be doing here?”
“Not having to work for a living, that’s what,” Nadia said like Rio had lost his mind and forgotten how to count to 3. “No more crap jobs just to get by. Everyone gets a place to live and food to eat, no money required. We don’t have to worry about where we go after we graduate…at least, not once they get done with things. Is that what’s bothering you? You’ve got another year before then.”
“But even then, what do I do? Live rent free, worry free…and then what?”
“Marry me…if I’m not already taken,” she joked, wrapping her right arm through his while she bit off the end of her sugar stick.
“And just live out our lives together doing…nothing?”
“Marriage isn’t nothing.”
“It isn’t something either. It’s a status, not an activity. Not a life.”
“I didn’t think you thought so little of me,” she said, knowing he wasn’t serious.
“But that’s just it,” he said, finally turning to look her in the dark green iris implants she’d gotten two years ago. “You’re a person, not a piece of property to acquire. Don’t you want to do anything with your life? Once Star Force gets through remodeling here, whenever that will be, we won’t have to worry about scraping by and working to live. So what do you want to do when that happens…sit around and watch vids all day?”
“Something is really eating you. No more being evasive. What is it? Just tell me.”
Rio leaned back, putting his head against the stone of the monument and looking out over the tops of all the other residential buildings with people just like him, looking ahead to normal, boring lives. Then there was the Star Force tower, rising further above them by the day as its frantic construction continued.
“I want to make something of myself, not spend my life just…living. I want to do something that matters.”
“You still want to go to law school?”
Rio frowned at her. “That was a long time ago. Besides, with Star Force in charge there’s no need for lawyers. Their civilian legal code is only 5 pages long. You can practically memorize it in a day.”
“I think that’s the point.”
“What?”
“That you can memorize it. That way you know the laws.”
“Novel idea there. Wish we’d thought of that.”
“But don’t they more complicated rules…for business or something?”
“Yeah, they do.”
“So?”
“I don’t want to be a lawyer, or whatever the new version is.”
“Then what do you want to be?”
“A man.”
Nadia squeezed his arm. “Well, I haven’t done a full body inspection yet, but I think you’re already there.”
“Sexuality can have a strong influence on the weak minded.”
“What?”
“It’s a quote.”
“From what?”
“Star Force.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
“It means ordinary people get caught up in relationships, and those relationships form the basis of their entire world.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t consider you to be a bad thing. Are you saying that I am?”
“I can’t define you,” Rio insisted as he stared out over the city, wanting her to understand. “You’re your own person. So am I. The question is, what do you want to do with your life, not who you want to be with.”
“What should I want?” Nadia asked skeptically.
“To be better than everyone else.”
“What’s wrong with everyone else?”
Rio turned to look at her again. “What’s wrong?!”
“Yes. What’s wrong with everybody else? Why aren’t they good enough for you? Why am I not good enough?”
Rio shook his head. “You’re missing the point.”
“No, it’s coming through real clear. You think you’re too good for us,” Nadia said, thumbing back towards the others on the rooftop park.
“No I’m not…but I want to be. Someday.”
“You’re not making any sense, Rio.”
“I can’t say here, Nadia. I have to get away. This place, these people…they’re killing me.”
She ran a finger down his chest. “You look fine to me.”
“On the inside. I feel hollow. Empty.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Don’t. You’re the one thing that makes this place bearable.”
“Well that’s better, but I still don’t get what you’re trying to tell me.”
Rio closed his eyes and lowered his head, knowing there was no way to break this easy to her.
“I can’t stay here anymore.”
“Where exactly do you think you’re going?”
“I passed, Nadia.”
“Passed what?”
“The recruitment test.”
Nadia stiffened. “What test?”
“Remember when my uncle came over a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah.”
“He didn’t take me water skiing. Well, he did, but while he rounded up some of his friends he dropped me off downtown and I went to the recruitment center.”
“What recruitment center?” Nadia asked with no small amount of anger in her voice.
“Star Force. I passed the entrance exams on the first try. I was only missing the PT test.”
“That’s why you’ve been doing all that extra running?”
Rio nodded. “I needed a 5:15 mile. Yesterday I ran a 5:14 on vid and sent the file to them. I got a confirmation message this morning. I’ve qualified for Regular recruitment.”
“Regular what?”
“A Regular. The Regulars.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about fighting the lizards,” he blurted out.
Though he couldn’t see it, for he wasn’t looking at her, Nadia’s face scrunched up into a look of total revulsion.
“Military! Star Force is bad enough, but military? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“It’s what I want,” Rio said simply.
“What you want? What about me? What about our life together? Our marriage? Our children?”
“I don’t want children. I don’t want a marriage, a normal life. I want to be someone,” he said, turning to face her. “I want my life to matter.”
Nadia pushed him away. “So I don’t matter?”
“You do matter to me. A lot. Which is why I want you to come with me.”
“Now I know you’re out of your mind.”
“Your science scores are high enough for a tech recruitment, I’d wager.”
“I don’t want to join Star Force. I want to stay here, see what changes Star Force makes and how they affect our lives. If what they claim is even half true, it should be a golden age for all of us ‘normal’ people. I want to raise children in that…maybe not here, in this building, but one like it.”
“Is that all you want? Just to be a mother?”
“You make it sound like it’s not important.”
“It’s still you defining yourself through other people. Who do you want to be, Nadia? You…nobody else. Just you.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you. Am I suddenly no longer good enough for you?”
“I have to be man, Nadia.”
“Be my man,” she insisted.
“I can’t be your man before I become a man…and I can’t become a man if I stay here, get married, have kids, and do nothing with my life. Everyone does that. Everyone has kids. Billions upon billions of people. It may be important but it’s not special, and it doesn’t require any skill. You just hump and let nature take its course. You know that better than most people with your parents.”
“My parents suck, which is exactly why I don’t want to be that way with my kids.”
“Why do you need kids? Why can’t you just be enough as yourself?”
“I want kids, Rio. It’s not about them defining me. I want to be a mother and do things right where my parents obviously didn’t. I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“No, that’s just your imagination. I want you…not the other stuff.”
“Stuff? You have no idea how insulting you’re being right now.”
Rio sat up and pointed at the Star Force tower.
“They are the only reason people get the chance to have families. Out there they’re fighting aliens to keep them away from Earth. Without them we’re all dead. Protecting Earth is more important than being a parent.”
“There are plenty of soldiers, Rio. Let someone else do it. You don’t have anything to prove to me.”
“It’s not about you. I guess I need to prove it to myself.”
“Prove what?”
“That I’m a man…and a better one than the average guy. I’m not now, but I want to be. I can feel the potential to be something…more. But I can’t do it here. This place, it eats away at that potential, and I’m afraid if I stay any longer it’s going to destroy it. I have to leave this place before it kills me, Nadia. I need you to understand that.”
“And you want to take me with you?”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“Then don’t leave.”
“I have to. I know that now, clearer than I’ve ever known anything else. I’ve earned my slot. It’s my chance and I’m not going to pass it up.”
“So you’re going to just leave me here?”
“Come with me and make a life for yourself. You can have children later if you really want. There’s no rush.”
Nadia crossed her arms over her chest. “Spoken like a typical male.”
“Meaning what?”
“A girl can’t wait. It’s biological. It’s literally in our DNA.”
“What about that woman on the news who gave birth at 93?”
“Star Force’s freaky medicine.”
“Self-sufficiency isn’t medicine…or freaky.”
“Yes it is. It’s unnatural.”
“You don’t want to live forever?”
“Nobody lives forever, Rio.”
“Don’t you want to try?”
“No. I want my husband and my children and that normal life you seem to hate.”
“With a passion,” he emphasized.
“Enough of this,” Nadia said, standing up. “Get your head on straight and I’ll talk to you in the morning. Hopefully with a good night’s sleep you’ll wake up sane.”
“I’m not joking, Nadia,” Rio said as she started to walk away. “I can leave now if I want. You’re the only reason I’m not gone already.”
She turned around. “So you want to convince me to come with you. What makes you think we’ll even be allowed to stay together? Damn it, Rio, I’m only 16.”
“Star Force doesn’t care about your age, only your abilities.”
“If you go off to war then where will I be?”
“We may be apart from each other, but we’ll both be gaining experience and rank, and who knows what else. We can become better people and hook up again down the road. If we attain self-sufficiency there’s no rush. Why can’t we be individuals first, couple second?”
“It’s one or the other, Mr. Jakson.”
Rio sighed. “I’m sorry, Nadia. I knew this would be hard on you, but I’m not giving up on you. I don’t have to be with you physically to love you. I can be halfway across the galaxy and still yours, married or not. I have to do this, but it doesn’t mean we have to split up.”
Nadia gulped. “So you are serious. You’re choosing Star Force over me?”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Rio said, standing up and looking into those green eyes he’d grown overly fond of.
“Yes it does,” she insisted. “I’m willing to make you my entire life. If you’re not willing to do the same, then there is no other option. You can have your Star Force career or you can have me. Not both.”
“I’m sorry then,” he said, trying not to get choked up. “This is something I have to do, or I’ll never be happy. I want you. I need you. But I need more than you. I need to be a man before I can be a husband, and I can’t do that here.”
Nadia shook her head. “If you go, I’m not waiting for you.”
Rio clenched his teeth together to help hold back the emotions swirling inside of him. He’d worked through this conversation beforehand in his head, already having made his decisions so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. He just hadn’t known how she’d respond, but this eventuality wasn’t hard to imagine, so he’d prepared himself for it.
“I love you, but I have to go. If you can’t work with a long distance relationship, and you need someone physically with you day in and day out…then that person isn’t going to be me.”
Nadia’s jaw dropped, then she took a step towards Rio and slapped him across the face…hard.
He couldn’t hold back the tears, but Nadia didn’t stick around to see them. She walked off in a huff, leaving Rio alone on the edge of the roof park.
He turned around and walked to the clear fence and stood a few inches away from it, staring out across the other rooftops and the sea of people they contained. His eyes went straight to the Star Force tower, now with another piece sticking out of the top that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago.
That was it. He’d just done it. Maybe she’d have second thoughts tomorrow, try and convince him to stay, but he knew that she wasn’t coming with him. She was afraid to leave…or maybe she actually wanted to stay. Rio couldn’t understand that, for every fiber of his being wanted to be away from here, and if she truly wanted the family life, then it was best that they part ways now, before they made each other miserable down the road.
That’s what his head told him, or rather had told him a few hours ago. Right now his emotions were running wild and he was following the instructions he’d told himself to follow in case this happened, in case he got emotional again, so that Nadia couldn’t use it to twist him around like she had so many times in the past. He didn’t mind so much before, but this was important…and he had to make his own decisions.
Like he’d planned, he knew he had to leave now before Nadia, his parents, or anyone else could get to him. He wasn’t in a mood to argue, and was afraid if that was what happened he’d cave. He was weak like that, which was one of the things he didn’t like about himself. That meant now was go time, and he had to head off his weakness before it caught up with him.
That meant calling his uncle and having him come and pick him up. He knew better than to tell his parents, but couldn’t just walk out on them. His uncle would explain things afterwards, so that way they’d know where he was and that he was alright, but they weren’t going to like his not graduating high school one bit, not even to join Star Force, which was much harder to accomplish.
Rio glanced over his shoulder at the others playing games in the park, realizing he had a moment of opportunity that was going to vanish fast. Nadia was upset, and soon word would get around, meaning he had to go now. Pulling out his communicator he searched for and found his uncle’s contact ID and sent him a preplanned message, which he got a reply for immediately, along with a timestamp indicating that his uncle would be here to pick him up within 2 hours.
Rio was already packed, which amounted to little more than a backpack, based off the fact that Star Force had said he wouldn’t need anything once he reached the recruitment center, but he had a few keepsakes he wanted to bring with him…along with his favorite shirt.
“Here goes,” he said, turning away from the sunny cityscape and walking slowly away across the large park, feeling his anxiety spike. This was the moment. The moment where his life was going to radically change, and now that it was here he welcomed it. He was a nervous, emotional mess, with a hole in his heart the size of a starship, but this was what he needed to do and he knew it. Now that he’d called his uncle there was no going back.
Rio walked through the park, found the down elevator, and returned to his family’s quarters. He grabbed his small satchel, swung it over his shoulders and quietly walked out, intending to hide elsewhere in the building until his uncle arrived so no one would have a chance to talk him out of it.
Two hours later, as promised, his uncle showed up and got him through the underage security measures at the building’s entrance. From there they walked to a nearby transit terminal and hired a transport car to take them off, with his uncle returning several hours later to explain to his brother and sister-in-law what their son had done.
2
May 27, 2458
Solar System
Mars
“Welcome to introduction, cadets. I am Trainer Henderson, and I am tasked with determining which of you passes basic training and which of you wash out,” the tall, thin, muscular man said wearing a pure white uniform as he paced back and forth across a platform set before a wall-spanning open ‘window’ that looked out onto the training grounds which, since they were on Mars, were all indoors.
“Yours will be individual training, allowing you to progress at your own rates. The only way one of you washes out is if you choose to leave. If you cannot pass the graduation trials, then you will remain here in perpetual training until you do. Those sitting beside you are your induction class, but whether or not you remain together is determined by how far each of you advances and in how timely a manner you do so.”
Rio glanced to his left, seeing two men considerably older than him sitting on the narrow bench beside him. They were probably at least twice his age, and about half of those sitting in front of him looked to be at least 30. He sat in the back row of 5 benches, just trying to listen and go along with the flow, feeling very out of place, for he was by far the youngest of them all, including the 4 girls out of the 48 member group, all of whom looked to have been post-college in age.
“Today you get your first taste of training, which will be based on the scores you entered with. There will be a lot of running…and by a lot I mean a lot. Running is the foundation of a commando, for if you can’t move around the battlefield you’re little more than a living turret, and if we need turrets we’ll just build them. We need you to be commandos, meaning you’re mobile, accurate, intelligent, and possessing a strength no normal Human can match.”
“Commandos are Regulars, and Regulars serve the Archons, assist the Knights. You are not cannon fodder, but rather one man armies capable of undertaking difficult tasks solo or combining your skills in group missions. You must learn to do both in your training, during which you will be subjected to multiple challenges to probe your weaknesses. Learn from them. Don’t fear failure. Analyze and adapt. If and when you achieve full commando status, you will know that the most important lesson to take with you from this training facility is to stay alive. Die in battle, and you will be of no further use in the war. We need you to become warriors, not the expendable commodities you’ve seen in vids.”
“How much you know of the lizards I cannot say, but I can tell you that you don’t know much. The lizards outnumber us so greatly we can’t even count them all. If we trade lives, one for one, one for five, one for ten…they win by default. The only way we prevail is by being better than them, which means our troops walk away at the end of the battle able to fight in the next one. Death is failure, even if you take a million enemies with you.”
“That means sometimes you have to run away to live and fight another day. It’s a cliché, but one you need to remember. When to run and when to fight is something that we will endeavor to teach you here, but there is not a rule book written that can take into account every possible scenario. You will have to make the call in the moment, and the best way to help you prepare for that is by throwing you into a plethora of learning experiences here, so be prepared to run the gauntlet. The more we hit you with here, the less surprises there will be out there,” the trainer said, pointing up at the high ceiling, indicating the stars beyond where the war was ongoing.
“Now, don’t concern yourself with tomorrow. We don’t send rookies out to the front lines. Only our best get combat assignments…unless the enemy ends up on our doorstep. If that happens here, you might as well kiss your asses goodbye. If the lizards reach Sol, then we’ve already lost and it’s up to us to make their victory as messy as possible. Our victory comes in keeping the enemy busy on the frontier while Star Force grows stronger, which is what you are doing here…becoming stronger, wiser, faster, sharper.”
“If and when you graduate, you will leave this facility to pursue even more training, one day rising in ability enough to get a field assignment. By then you will be ready, now you are not, and my advice to you is not to be thinking ahead to the war. Live in the moment, for this training, while modulated to each of your individual skill levels, is going to be more of a challenge than you’ve ever faced before, and it will require your full attention. Anything less, and get used to receiving failure notices.”
“Now, this is where it begins. When you go through that door,” he said, pointing to his left and Rio’s right, “you listen, you learn, you obey…and grab on with two hands to the greatest challenge of your life to this point, for there is no turning back or slowing down. If you wash out, it will not be an instantaneous thing. There is a procedure to follow, to ensure that you’re not making a rash decision, for if you do decide to leave, there’s no coming back for a second try. Not with the commandos anyway, though you might have a chance with the mechwarriors or pilots.”
“We learn to get things done the first time by never stopping our efforts and always working the problem. Surrender isn’t in our vocabulary, nor is it something the lizards will allow. They’re out to kill us all, so get used to the idea of having to find a way to win or survive to win another day. Second place in this conflict means you’re dead.”
“That said, we are not our enemy, and we do not always kill our enemy. Each mission varies, and we will allow the enemy to surrender when we can. That is also something you will have to learn. Many wars are fought between bad guys. Being the good guy means we fight differently, so get used to that difference. If our enemy were as honorable as us we wouldn’t be fighting them, so expect your opponent to use different tactics and tricks, and be alert for them.”
“And make no mistake, this war is not some misunderstanding or diplomatic snafu. The lizards want to rule the galaxy, which in their definition is to kill or enslave all others…and guess which one they’ve tagged Humans for. That’s right…kill. They will kill you on the spot, sometimes blowing themselves up in the process. They are dishonorable scum that you will not emulate. You will defeat them and their methods, not become them.”
“Star Force is part of an alliance with other enemies of the lizards, one of which is called the Nestafar…or perhaps I should say was, because they betrayed the Alliance and joined with the lizards. You may end up fighting them one day, or one of hundreds of other races we’ve come into contact with. Each of them is a person, like you, and you will treat them accordingly. Some you might even be fighting alongside, like the Calavari, and if you have enough prolonged experience you will come to realize that they are just like us…only different, and those differences you will need to learn. There are good and bad people in every race, so see the individual, not the species.”
“That is why we give our enemies the chance to surrender, but when they’re out for our heads the proper response is to kill them first, and do it quickly. Torture we do not tolerate, and as commandos you will have the most up close contact with the enemy, who does use bladed weapons as well as plasma. There will be blood, gore, and nastiness that you probably can’t even imagine. Through it all you must remain true to who you are and true to Star Force. To quote an Archon, ‘you must not turn to the dark side, no matter how dire your situation.’”
“So, let’s recap,” Henderson said, clapping his hands together as he finally stopped pacing. “Hardest challenge of your life so far…learning a lot of things I’ve mentioned that you currently have no clue about…always be the good guy…never expect the enemy to…neither hate nor trust the aliens, they’re people like you…gotta go superhuman in order to beat the lizards…and oh, yes, one more thing. Don’t ever call an Archon ‘sir.’ They take it as a sign of disrespect.”
“So,” he said, pulling his arms behind his back and standing up. “You have two doors. One door starts your training, the other door takes you back to civilian life and your chance to become a Regular isn’t wasted…in so much as you can always have a change of heart and come back and give it a try, so long as you test out again. Once you go through that door it’s make or break, so make your choice. My task here is done.”
With a smile the trainer stepped backward towards the edge of the platform and in a blur of motion did a backflip over the railing and fell out of sight, leaving the 48 recruits alone to make their choice.
Rio stood up with the rest of the group, but held his place as some of them ran up to the edge to look down on where the trainer had gone too. The 17 year old massaged the sides of his grey pant legs as he watched the others, not wanting to make a move towards the door before anyone else did. There was a bit of chatter between some of the men, but there was a sense of wary silence as the first of them walked over and opened up the door with a press of a button.
It vanished into the wall revealing a tiny compartment large enough for only one person. Rio couldn’t see from his position, but suddenly the person that was there a moment before no longer was, drawing a bit more talk from those nearby. Slowly the crowd moved up, with others disappearing, until Rio finally got a clear line of sight to see that the door would close over the person at the touch of an interior button, then open again with the person having disappeared.
Rio waited at the back until there were only a handful left, including three standing along the platform railing and looking out over the very active training grounds.
“How old are you?” one of the two men asked.
“Me?” Rio said in a small voice, then coughing to cover his nerves when the man nodded. “I’ll be 18 in three months.”
“That means 17,” the girl corrected.
“And you passed the PT test?” the man asked again.
“Yes,” Rio said as the last of those behind him disappeared through the door, leaving only the four of them behind.
“What do they want children for?” the second man asked the first.
He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you know each other?” Rio asked, prying his eyes off the hundreds, if not thousands, of people moving across the training fields like an army of ants, and taking a glance back at the door that stood invitingly open. The other one that they’d entered through had never been shut, allowing them a visual line of retreat if they wanted.
“We’re ex-military, kid,” the girl answered. “Out of a job, now that the old armies were scrapped.”
“You coming or leaving?” the first man asked.
“I was going to go through last. Why are you waiting?”
“Just enjoying the view,” he said, cracking a touch of a smile through his goatee. “Name’s Raven. This is Styk and Julie. Formerly of the United States Ranger Corps.”
“Rio Jakson, from California.”
“Well now,” Styk said, immediately getting a bit more friendly, “another American…or should I say former American, now that they’re tearing the old girl up into bits and pieces.”
“You really going through with this, kid?” Julie asked.
“Yes.”
“Then get going. We’ll follow you through.”
Raven nodded at him to go, so Rio didn’t argue. He turned and walked over to the door and stepped inside the compartment and hit the button. The door slid shut behind him, then all of a sudden the floor dropped out and he began to fall…
He bounced off his arms and legs against a flexible tube as it curled and twisted underneath him, reminding him of a dry waterslide as he slid down very, very far before falling out through open air onto a pile of foam squares that gently dragged him to a halt in an alley set off a main street in some sort of city. Rio had landed face up, and found himself staring at pure blue sky…but that was impossible, for he was on Mars, not Earth.
Rio sat up…immediately falling back down as the foam resisted his movements. He tried again, eventually able to wiggle himself over to the far end of the foam field and get his feet onto the hard pavement and stand up. Neither Raven, Styk, nor Julie had come down yet…nor did he see anyone else around, so he walked out and looked into the street.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. There was a city, a huge city all around him with building after building going down as far as he could see in either direction, as well as some huge skyscrapers in the distance…not to mention the one behind him that the alley had been carved out of. It rose up so high he had trouble guessing its height, but there was more to worry about at the moment…like the fact that the streets were rubble strewn and deserted.
“What the…” he said, getting caught in the right arm by a small projectile. It smashed into goo, leaving his elbow numb and his head turning, trying to see where it had come from.
Something inside him told him not to wait, so even as he looked he ran across the street to the nearest set of doors he could see, causing another shot to miss him by inches.
The next thing he knew he was inside and climbing stairs as people were chasing him. He ran and ran, ducking into one deserted hallway after another, going up stairs, then down stairs, then up again trying to lose his pursuit. Eventually he ended up on a decorative ledge spanning a wide set of double doors, laying down behind some short potted plants that had long since withered and died.
In truth he didn’t know where he was or how he’d gotten there, but all Rio knew at the moment was that he needed to slow his breathing and hope to hell that they didn’t see him. He closed his eyes and concentrated, noticing that his left hand was shaking and he couldn’t stop it, so he tucked it underneath his butt as he lay on his back and tried to think of a calm ocean beach under blue skies, light years away from his current situation.
His eyes snapped open as he heard the faint rasps and clicks of armor as someone ran by underneath him…then another some 20 seconds later. Neither paused, and Rio was enormously grateful, despite the fact that his heart felt like it was clenched up into a diamond inside his chest.
He waited a long time before getting enough courage to slip an eye up over the edge of one of the pots and have a look. The hallway was big, bigger than he remembered. It must have been a main corridor within the building, but it was completely abandoned. He saw a desk tipped over and otherwise askew down a ways, remembering suddenly that he’d nearly tripped over it as he ran by after slipping on a puddle of water or some liquid that he couldn’t see.
Rio took a deep breath and tried to think back to what the trainer had told them, especially the part about living in the moment. This had to be a test, one where they didn’t get forewarning. But if it was a test what was he supposed to do?
Approaching footsteps from underneath prompted Rio to duck back down, but he silently scooted far enough that he could look around the dead stem of one of the plants and get a tiny peek at who was chasing him…only to see another grey uniform like his own flash by.
Rio popped his head up and saw the backside of a familiar red ponytail. Gathering his voice, which had gone hiding along with his body, he tried to make as low level a noise as he could.
“Psst, psst,” he said in a whispery mouth noise.
Julie immediately spun around, holding a small pistol in her left hand while her right hung limp beside her…much as Rio’s right forearm had been doing before, though his nervous jitters had seemed to bring it back to life sometime during the past minute or so.
“Kid?” she whispered as Rio sat up enough for her to see his face and torso.
“Yeah,” he whispered back.
“What happened to you?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the hallway, in both directions, as she walked back underneath the doorway so she could talk to him in as quiet a voice as possible.
“I don’t know. I got shot…and ran…then hid here.”
“Have you seen any of the enemy?”
“I heard two come by, but didn’t look up.”
“Did you hear which way they were going?” she asked, not expecting him to have the skill to differentiate the sounds but asking anyway.
“Underneath,” he said confidently.
Julie glued her eyes in that direction and held her pistol ready. “Get down from there. You’re coming with me.”
“Where?” Rio said, climbing quickly.
“Beats me. Stay quiet and two meters behind me at all times. I’ve only got a few shots left, and I don’t want to trip over you if we need to run.”
“Where did you get that?” Rio whispered, not knowing if she’d get mad at him for talking. She was a good inch taller than him and looked like she could snap him in two at will, despite being jaw-droppingly attractive.
“Knocked out the guy trying to shoot me. They’re wearing armor, but the stingers soak through. Let’s go.”
Julie walked under the ledge that Rio had been hiding on, with him locking his mouth shut and trying to stay exactly 2 meters behind her, just as she’d said, happy to have someone else to follow. Otherwise he would have stayed up in his hiding place for who knows how long.
3
May 29, 2458
Solar System
Mars
Rio woke with a start, finding a fingernail poking in the side of his neck as Julie woke him up as he had apparently dozed off in the lounge chair he’d been inhabiting for the hour or so since they’d finished with their last training session of the day…a short, but intense stair climbing run.
“What?” he asked groggily.
“Time to go to sleep,” she said with a grin, then pointed across the lounge to the exit that led to their individual quarters.
“What?” he asked again. They didn’t have curfew until 9 pm.
Rio glanced down at his watch and did a double take. He’d come into the lounge a little after 5 pm, and was dead sure he couldn’t have been in here more than 2 hours, tops, but his watch read 8:57.
“What the hell?” he asked, prying his body up out of the chair and finding himself quite stiff.
“Long nap?” she asked, nudging him on like a bossy sister.
“I guess so,” he said, still not sure how he could have lost track of that much time. He’d been watching the news vids with a lot of the other recruits after their official day was over, which was to be spent either in their quarters, the cafeteria, or the huge and well-furnished lounge that he was in now…which virtually everyone had been in, all 200 or so of them in Rio’s residential group. Now there was only a handful of people left.
“Next time sleep in your bunk,” Julie told him as they both headed for the distant door on the other end of a narrow, hard walkway that separated the vid screens/games half of the lounge from the assortment of other equipment and activities that made up the other half, beyond which was the staircase that led down four levels to the cafeteria that they shared with 7 other residential groups.
“I can’t believe I was out for that long,” Rio said honestly.
“Star Force training might use short workouts, but if it’s not something you’re used to it’ll suck the energy out of you just the same. Until you adapt, I suggest you try and get a few extra hours of sleep. The standard 8 won’t be enough.”
“I’ll remember that,” he promised, rubbing a crick in his neck. Maybe his bunk was a better place to rest than the chair, no matter how comfortable it had felt at the outset.
“Make sure your alarm is set loud, kid,” she said as they came to the doors and started to head different ways…her to the left and him to the right. “Don’t want to get penalized for oversleeping.”
“What’s the penalty?”
“I…don’t know. If you’re smart you won’t find out the hard way.”
“Ok, thanks…” he said as she walked off. He turned down his hallway and counted side hallways until he came to his section, then found door number 118. He typed in his access code, then had to do it a second time as his sleepy finger mishit one of the 8 digits. A bit slower and he got the code right, with the door sliding into the wall to reveal his tiny quarters.
Rio walked in and closed the door with a touch of the control panel set just inside the door jamb, then he locked it with another button an inch higher before pulling off his shirt and tossing it on the bit of floor the hexagonal room contained. The two angled walls on his right contained a single bunk built under an overhanging set of storage bins, with the opposite 3 walls containing a personal vid screen, pullout desk, and a very compact restroom/shower also set into the wall.
His ceiling was a geodesic dome with back lighting, taking away a bit of claustrophobia with programmable lights, which he had set on a slow, oscillating flicker of blue and green, but the floor was only a few square meters, meaning he could stretch out from his bunk and touch the restroom door, making him feel like his quarters were more like a containment pod…but at least they were exclusively his and he didn’t have to suffer through a roommate.
Rio laid down on his bunk and quickly began to fall asleep. Ever since that first day when they’d been deposited into the fake city to be hunted down by the trainers, he’d been barraged with workout sessions divided up between information dumps. Today the morning session had been focused on the various types of armor Star Force used, with commandos having 3 distinct varieties that differed from what the Archons, Knights, and others wore…carapace, vacuum, and jump.
Commando armor was designed to be quick and agile like the Archons’, but the one notable difference was the squarish design of the plates. Archon armor had smooth edges, while commando armor had rounded lines. Rio didn’t know what the significance of that was, but it gave them the ability to differentiate between a commando and an Archon set, despite the color IDs.
Commando armor could come in all kinds of colors, but mainline units either came in a dull grey or dirty white. Clan commandos had their armor appropriately customized to their Clan colors, while Star Force security armor usually had some gold coloration worked in. Knight armor was always pure white, like it was stating their superiority over the Regulars, and Rio couldn’t hold it against them. They were brutes, far larger in size than he or even the American Ranger trio, and though he hadn’t seen any of them here, Rio had gotten a combat demonstration vid in the afternoon information session that showed several in action, both in armor and out.
Then, as insanely humbling as that was, they showed him and the others in his ‘class’ an Archon adept, who despite her smaller size managed to fight toe to toe with a Knight, after taking apart a quartet of Regulars. Then a higher ranking Regular was brought in and somehow managed to take down the Archon.
But the demonstration didn’t stop there. A higher level adept came in and picked the Regular apart, then a Knight came in and did the same to the Archon. One after another, progressively higher ranked Regulars, Knights, and Archons were brought forth on the vid, clearly demonstrating the stratified nature of Star Force combat soldiers. One class wasn’t defaultly better than another, it was all determined by the skill level of the individual…though the Knights definitely had a size advantage.
By the time the vid worked up to an Archon ranger Rio’s jaw had dropped and stayed down for the remainder of the vid. Nothing he had ever seen even came close to the speed and strength he was witnessing, not even the most wild movie characterization of the Archons ever made. Reality, somehow, was lightyears beyond the fiction, making Rio wonder just how many awesome secrets Star Force had that they hadn’t felt like sharing with the public.
When Rio finally drifted off to sleep again, despite the long nap he’d already taken, his dreams started to repeat parts of the stunning combat he’d witnessed, via vid, earlier…along with the trainer’s words after Rio and Julie had been revived from their stun-induced defeat the first day, despite the fact that they’d lasted the longest out of the group.
“If you want to survive, you have to upgrade your individual skills…or hope to have some very powerful allies covering your ass.”
That sentiment took on new meaning after watching the skill levels displayed in the vid, and Rio’s subconscious mind agreed with his earlier sentiment that he had a very, very long way to go before he was going to fit in around here, but if what they’d told him about having no time limits was true, then what he had to do was live in the moment, one day, one workout at a time, and slowly, gradually climb the ranks.
Then maybe one day, very far down the road, he’d become a superhuman like them.
One month later his assessment hadn’t changed, but his understanding of the challenge did as he learned the fundamentals of training and just how badass the Star Force troops were. His body was sore, stiff, and fat-deprived now, with him sucking down platefuls of food at every opportunity in between workout sessions and during his off hours at the end of the day, most of which he spent in his bunk getting extra hours of sleep…that never seemed to be enough.
He woke up each day wanting to stay in bed, but after the first week he’d finally convinced his sleepy mind that he needed to get up in order to become superhuman, so despite the want to stay under the covers and soak up more of the bliss, he’d pull himself out of bed at the sound of his alarm and quickly dress in what he thought of as his ‘pajamas’. With his casual uniform on he’d report to the doors that exited the residential area, then get passed through by security that would otherwise not permit anyone to leave. New as they were, they didn’t have roaming privileges yet. Those they’d have to earn later.
Once through, Rio headed to the equipment room where he and the others got dressed in their training gear, which in this case was merely shorts, shirt, and running shoes. He and the other recruits hit a nearby track and got their pace laps in, of which Rio’s were 7:00 miles. He’d worked up to 2.5 miles, or 10 laps on the track, and even though the pace was now well within his wheelhouse, it was still an effort to get the laps in. Thankfully all he had to do was live in the moment and keep up with his holographic tracking icon, all the while the other recruits did the same thing, running at their individual paces and lap totals.
With his workout taking less than 20 minutes, he was back in the equipment room within a half hour to shower and dress in a fresh casual uniform. Then it was off to the cafeteria for breakfast, which for Rio was a stack of pancakes, two donuts, and several glasses of ‘red,’ which was one of several drink flavors/concoctions, each of which had different nutritional values. Red was full of electrolytes and other things needed to replace workout losses, while blue, green, white, purple, black, and clear all had different supplements. Some were vitamins, others were sugars, and all had their purpose, with ‘clear’ being pure water.
The foodstuffs had some similarities, with specific items having specific supplements, but Rio hadn’t given much attention to them other than what his nose and taste buds told him…which, ironically, one of his ‘classroom’ sessions had indicated was a good idea, for the body’s biofeedback worked to inform the individual of what it needed at that moment. It was a subtle thing in most cases, and Rio didn’t think he was reading anything subtle into his tastes. He was hungry and craving food, sugars mostly, but that was the extent to which he made it a mental exercise.
Mouth open, food in…then after that, along with a lot of red, he’d either head back to the lounge or, usually, take a slow walk over to the information session he had to report to next and just get there early. Two hours of information about a variety of things, all of which he could then look up in his quarters later for review, given that all information was locked until it was broached in session, and it was back to the equipment room again and out of his casual uniform, which he stowed in a locker before changing into a full body combat suit.
The material was thin, but the knees and elbows were slightly padded, and the whole thing preserved his agility to the point that sometimes he felt like he was naked. It was colored gray with shoes that zipped into the legs, forming a total single piece that went up to his tight neckline, but left his head exposed. Now properly attired he headed over to another area of the training facility, this one a weapons range where he would get in an hour of static shooting practice with a variety of weapons, stun and live rounds, before switching to the obstacle course half.
That was much more difficult, which had him running along a path and engaging holographic enemies as they randomly popped up. He was scored on hits/kills/ammo and had never gotten all the way through to the end without running his weapon dry, including the rifle which carried an insanely large amount of rounds. When he was given that, it usually ended up being a zombie fest…which was what Raven called a particular challenge where there was a holographic chaser moving at a specific speed behind you, keeping you running forward at all times else it make contact and trigger a disqualification.
As it pressed you forward there were hundreds of holographic targets…some Human, most lizard, with a variety of other races thrown in, including some fictitious ones, such as ewoks and Zerg, each with their own movement patterns. They were all his targets, while others were targets/hunters that would actively move towards him, and if they made ‘physical contact,’ which in this case meant the holograph overlapping with his body, it would dock him points. That meant he had to track, shoot, and evade simultaneously in an overly chaotic run to the finish…all of which had to stay ahead of the ‘zombie’ behind him, which preventing him from camping out and putting some order to the chaos.
By the time he was finished at the range his legs were dragging all the way back to the equipment room. He had two hours off for lunch, a significant piece of which he spent in the shower. Some of the others skipped that step and went straight to eat, knowing they were going to have another training session afterward, but with an unlimited supply of uniforms, Rio preferred discarding his sweaty ones whenever he could and getting cleaned up in between sessions.
He got to the cafeteria and chowed down again, this time on breadsticks, pasta, and a huge piece of cake. Hungry for more, he held himself back, not wanting to get sick an hour later when he went through basic hand to hand combat drills, all individual based against practice equipment, developing and strengthening the movements that his body needed to put to muscle memory, upon which later sessions would be built around.
Everything here worked off of prerequisites. Learning one thing led to another that required knowledge of the first, and the physical training was no exception. In his spare time he had a chance to look ahead at some of the challenges he had available to him, seeing what scores he needed to unlock others and additional equipment. So far the sniper rifle, which was his favorite weapon by far, was still out of his reach, requiring mastering the pistol in three versions first…plasma, stinger, and stun…enough to make him competent enough to hit targets rather than friendlies most of the time.
Another thing he learned early on was that ‘mastering’ something didn’t mean you couldn’t improve any further…far from it. There was always another ability level to rise up to, with the appropriately named ‘trailblazers’ leading the way for the Archons, pushing their skills into unknown territory and giving those that followed benchmarks to train towards or against. The same was true of the Regulars, with their own leaders providing an example of just how much could be accomplished over the centuries if one had the mental fortitude to devote themselves to the task day in and day out without fail.
And they weren’t done yet. They were still rising higher, attaining new skill levels while the trainers wrote the requirements for others. Those men and women fascinated him. What would it be like to go at it completely blind as to what was ahead? Everything Rio was learning and becoming was based off of what others had done before him and codified into the quickest, most efficient means of learning for others to tackle and level up as fast as possible.
Besides their skills, which were nearly god-like already, they had to be true badasses in order to do what they did and cut the trail for the others, like him, to follow on.
In the first few weeks of his training, Rio had occasionally thought back to home and Nadia, with his sentimental feelings quickly being replaced with sober understanding of just how sheltered and stagnant he had been. He could never go back there, be what he had once been, and he felt a mixture of pity and revulsion at those who lived their entire lives in such a state.
By the end of the month all thoughts to that past life were gone, with Rio’s entire being now dedicated to training, training, and more training. This was his life now, and it was more than he had ever dreamed of it being…because it was real, visceral, and a lot of other things he couldn’t put into words.
Bottom line was, it was what he wanted…and from that point forward he never had any regrets concerning his decision to leave. Star Force was legit, and he couldn’t imagine him doing anything else, now that he’d gotten a taste of the real thing.
4
December 28, 2458
Solar System
Mars
Rio ducked down behind a low wall as stingers flew over his head, cradling his rifle across his chest as he glanced down the flank and saw his teammate for this exercise flash him a hand signal. It was palm flat and level to the ground, but his hand held steady, indicating that Rio should stay behind cover.
He didn’t respond, but kept his eyes on that hand until it suddenly flipped over to where he could see the back of the hand with a thumb pointing up…at which point Rio, trusting his teammate’s vantage point, stood up and jumped over the wall in one semi-fluid motion. He came down on the other side and took three awkward steps forward before sliding down behind another low wall…with more stingers flashing over his head, narrowly missing.
Rio shoved his protective sunglasses back up his nose, them having slipped half an inch when he hit the ground. He knew he should have picked up a snugger pair in the equipment room, but there was no going back now…he’d have to make do with what he had.
He glanced around, seeing a pillar on the wall to his left, and crawled towards it, allowing him to stand up on a knee and poke his right eyeball out around cover to where he could see the single turret he and his 4 man team were approaching. There was a series of low walls going all the way up to the thing, but the deactivation sphere atop the damn thing wouldn’t go live until they got up to the closest wall, forcing them to leapfrog their way up to it rather than pepper it with paint from range.
But then again, that was the point of the exercise, and this was his fourth time going through it this afternoon. The idea was for no one to get hit while giving them a chance to practice their coordinated movement tactics…with being fast and clean the objective. The basic hand signals they’d been taught helped greatly, and Rio had memorized them the first chance he had, but there was only so much you could do with a single hand, or two, and he really wished he had a comm piece right now so he could tell Linda when the right time to move was.
He could see her hunkered down on the opposite side from him, one wall ahead. She looked back at him waiting for him to give the go ahead, but he held his palm out flat to the ground, telling her to stay put. Rio had to be careful to stay behind the pillar, otherwise the turret would shoot his hand…something he’d learned the hard way a few weeks ago. Poking his eye out and trying to do it slowly so as not to trigger the motion detection sensors on the turret, he watched the twin barrels rotate and depress slightly as Nate jumped up and down behind his wall, getting the turret’s attention.
When it rotated to track him, spitting out some stingers that missed badly, Rio gave Linda the ‘thumbs up’ and saw her blindly jump up and slither over the wall, disappearing from view far quicker than Rio had. A moment later stingers landed on the other side just as he saw her crawl into view up against the next wall, with no paint on her. Once again her previous gymnastics experience allowed her the flexibility to bend and move low to the ground in ways that Rio couldn’t…at least yet. His flexibility was increasingly slowly, but he wasn’t going to catch her for some time, meaning he was going to have to stiff-leg it through these exercises until he was able to limber up.
Ok, she’s there, he’s there…which means I need to go there, he mentally planned out before dropping into a crawl and headed down the length of the wall closer to where Linda had gone over, but near to another pillar that would give him a vantage point, allowing him to coordinate with the others. It had felt like a painful game of chess to him when they’d first been introduced to the maneuvering tactics, but now it was coming easier, with the available positions starting to pop into his mind on sight rather than him having to think it through too much.
He signaled to Tom, getting him over the next wall, then provided a distraction to the turret, helping Nate get by…leaving him the furthest back. His teammates returned the favor, created a diversion that let him move up not one, but two walls using his hurdling technique from high school track on the second barrier before dropping into a roll that bumped him up against the second, back first.
Rio was safe though, with a couple of blue stingers hitting the wall behind him and splashing their paint and stun energy against it. The stun energy dissipated into the material, leaving only the slick goo behind, but he knew if he touched it too soon he’d get a little numb, for the stun didn’t disappear immediately on impact. Same went for a person, which he’d also learned the hard way when one of his teammates had gotten hit and he reached to pull him behind cover. His hand had gone numb when he grabbed the man’s shoulder, causing his grip to slip and a wash of pins and needles to follow that severely hampered him through the rest of that challenge.
Rookie mistakes, he knew, and he was glad he was beyond that point now. A few minutes later and this impromptu team was up to the closest wall, with them taking turns popping up and shooting the deactivation sphere atop the turret until it became saturated enough to end the exercise. When it did a finish tone sounded and blue lights came on…along with a cleaning crew that quickly wiped off the paint splatters, resetting the course within 2 minutes for the next group to come through.
Rio knew he didn’t have time to wait around and go through again with a different set of teammates, so he checked his rifle in at the waiting area and headed out into the hallways that ran through the training areas, deciding to get in a little sparring practice with an available trainer before heading back to the equipment room for a show and over to his designated cafeteria for supper. When he got there he saw Julie and Raven already there and went over to join them with his plateful of carb and sugar-heavy foodstuffs, not to mention two large bottles of red.
“You need to shave, kid,” Julie said as he sat down, with him reflexively rubbing his chin, realizing that he’d forgotten to shave that morning.
“Guess so,” he said, taking a bite out of a roll. “Must have slipped my mind this morning.”
“You still having trouble sleeping?” Raven asked, then downed a spoonful of mashed potatoes.
“Yeah. It’s like my body is so tired it forgets how to sleep. Best I can do is catch a crash nap, but they don’t last longer than 45 minutes. Then I’m back to being a zombie.”
“Sounds like you could use a girlfriend,” Julie suggested, paying more attention to her plate than him.
Rio looked up. “You offering?”
Julie half choked, then looked at him with a weird expression on her face. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Well, it was your idea,” Raven commented with a grin.
She starred laser bolts back at him. “He’s not my type, and besides, he’s like my brother. You can’t screw your brother.”
“Says who?” Raven shot back. “Well, from a girl’s perspective anyway. Biologically it’s all the same, brother or stranger.”
“Fine,” she said, taking a sip of green, “you can screw your brother, but you shouldn’t want to. Totally different relationship there. The two aren’t compatible.”
“Still,” Raven teased, “if it would help him sleep.”
She stuck two fingers into his mashed potatoes, dipped up a healthy glob, then flipped them in his face all within a second and a half.
Rio couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks Raven, but I don’t think sex is going to help. My body’s all messed up from the changes, I’d guess. I just need time to adapt.”
“Wise words,” Raven approved, flicking a bit of potatoes back at Julie, who caught it on her nose. “Leave it to a girl to think sex solves everything.”
She pointed a warning finger at him, then went back to eating as Styk came and sat down next to her, directly across from Rio. He looked at his fellow ex-Rangers and frowned.
“What happened to you two?”
“A difference of opinion,” Julie said.
“The kid can’t sleep, and she suggested sex would help.”
Styk glanced at her. “I didn’t think the young were your type?”
She pounded both fists down on the table, bracketing her plate. “I am not the only girl around here.”
“But you are the hottest,” Rio said, drawing a snicker from Raven.
Julie’s mouth opened to argue, then closed against when she realized what she would be arguing against. “Thanks.”
“Just pointing out the obvious, sis,” Rio added.
“Did I miss something else?” Styk asked.
Raven shook his head. “Just Jules inferring that we’re all family here, and therefore off limits on hump day.”
“Ouch. Guess I’m going to have to take back that Valentine’s day present I got you,” Styk joked as he bit into a very long sugar stick.
“Yeah, yeah, pick on me,” Julie complained. “I was just trying to help the kid.”
“Thank you,” Rio said in between bites.
“As far as us being a ‘family,’” Styk commented, pausing to take a drink, “I’m afraid we’re going to be splitting up. I’m heading out tomorrow.”
“Where to?” Raven asked, serious.
“I passed my trials, so I’m moving to another facility a few hundred kilometers from here for advanced training.”
“When did this happen?” Julie demanded.
“Two hours ago.”
“You got the agility course mark?” Rio asked, curious. That one in particular was giving him headaches in the a la carte trials that all of them were working their individual way towards passing.
“Took some doing, but yeah, just yesterday. Crazy, they’ve already got me scheduled to leave this soon.”
“What about the graduation ceremony?”
“Ha…there is none. Just a joke the trainers let spread around as rumor.”
“Nothing?” Julie asked.
“Just a brief talk, explaining what’s happening next. Passing basic means you’re not a screw-up, so now it’s onto the real training to become commandos.”
“Good,” Raven said with a nod. “I thought things around here were a little weak.”
“Be careful what you ask for,” Julie warned him.
“If they’re weak, why haven’t you passed yet?” Styk challenged.
“I’m close. Maybe another week or two.”
“What’s holding you up?”
“Stupid sword. Really, in this day and age, who uses a sword?”
“Knights,” Rio offered.
“Well we’re not training to be Knights. I can see using a stun stick, but the sword is just too damn long to be of much use.”
Rio smiled, but didn’t say anything, though Julie raised an eyebrow.
“What?” she asked him.
“I already passed the sword trial. Wasn’t that hard once I stopped using it to ‘chop wood,’” he explained, using the phrase his trainer had drilled into him to correct his mistake.
“Way to go, kid,” Julie said, brimming with amusement as she stared at Raven. “If he can do it, then you just suck.”
“I’ll second that,” Styk added.
“As I said,” Raven emphasized, “I’ll get it soon. Then I’ll join you wherever it is you’re going.”
“Maybe not,” Styk said, his merriment disappearing. “I’m told there are multiple facilities. We might not end up at the same place.”
“So this could be goodbye?” Julie asked.
“I prefer ‘until next time,’” Styk said, forcing a smile.
“There’s a chance we might meet up again,” Raven added. “I’ve been talking with some of the vets that turned trainer, and they say assignments aren’t always blind. Sometimes you get options. Let us know where you land, and there’s a chance we might be able to follow.”
“Will do,” Styk said, returning his attention to his plate.
“You too, kid,” Julie said, drawing an eyebrow from Raven. “Keep us up to date on your progress…occasionally.”
“Yeah, I’m going to be here a while longer,” he said with resignation.
“It takes time,” Raven offered. “We started here on the same day, but we’ve had years of experience you lack. If you tested out the same time we did, then we’d suck.”
“I’ll make it,” Rio promised.
“One step at a time, kid,” Styk cautioned. “Stick with it and we’ll see you on the other side.”
It took Rio another 8 months before he finally completed his graduation trials, the last of which was the running test, which required a sub 16:00 5k. That was three times as long and just as fast as the mile he ran to qualify for the program, and had left him thoroughly drained afterward, but unlike the mile he felt more in control of the 5k, now that he knew how to train for it…and had a pacing marker to follow. That let him bury himself in workouts, not having to worry about anything other than staying with the glowing dot as long as he could.
His legs didn’t like that method, but they responded to it well enough. Still, it takes time to build strength and speed, and he was happy with completing the trials when he did. Others had come and gone from the training facility, but there were some that had gotten there before him and had yet to test out, meaning he wasn’t bottom of the barrel. As the trainers had said, it didn’t matter how long it took you to get to the qualification point, so long as you got there, then, after that, everyone was even going forward.
Which was something that Rio was eagerly anticipating. When he got his graduation speech, he was told that the training would be ramped up, with a lot more challenges and less individual training time. He’d have to use what he’d learned in basic, combined with computer database resources, to create his own physical training workouts…forcing him to rely less and less on trainers, at least for things they’d already gone over time and again.
When it came time to leave he packed a duffle and hopped a train that took him across the Martian landscape, bypassing several cities on the way until it dropped him off at a huge complex, and that was saying something given the monstrous Star Force-built cities that sprouted up across the planet. The training facility looked like an artificial mountain range, but with smooth sides and flat peaks, on top of which he could see dropships coming and going, along with several larger starships, cargo transports from the look of it, though they were so far away it was hard to be sure.
The ‘mountains’ grew larger as the train crept towards them, ultimately ducking into a tunnel and regaining its apparent speed…for the sheer size of the center had made the train feel as if it were standing still rather than speeding along at several hundreds of miles per hour. Once inside it continued its speedy transit, eventually coming out the other side, allowing Rio to see that the mountain ‘range’ was actually a ring, with a huge interior ‘crater’ that housed what looked like exterior training facilities for mechs.
He hadn’t realized that this would be a shared division facility, but as the train slowed he could see dozens of mechs moving in formation, while others were lifting objects and running over others. Some jumped into the air and floated on anti-grav jump jets, while others climbed rocky hills, all of which appeared to be non-veteran pilots by the awkward way the mechs were moving around.
There were also aircraft in play, and far off in the distance he thought he saw infantry in pressure suits moving around on the surface. That scared him, for he didn’t like the idea of dying if he got a tiny cut on an arm or leg. Mars’ atmospheric pressure may have risen slightly since Star Force had first colonized it, due to terraforming factories turning rock into gas, but the natural environment was still unlivable.
It was warmer, but still below freezing on most of the planet, and the oxygen level was minuscule. Most of the gasses being produced were carbon dioxide, which several hardy forests were gobbling up and producing the oxygen…but for an entire planet’s worth of atmosphere it barely made a dent, meaning that if you went outside without a suit, you’d either suffocate to death or bleed out from decompression, just not as fast as you would have in the old days.
The rest of the planet was still a dry, cold desert, with Star Force’s major terraforming projects using their resources on planets with near to normal gravity. Mars, at 37%, was better suited to the interior-dwelling mega structures that already covered the planet, with more and more gradually being added to fill in the remaining swaths of red as seen from orbit, which only recently passed the 50% mark, making the planet more urban than empty.
Rio’s train came to a halt in a terminal that housed several other tracks, with two other trains visible parked inside shielded buildings that allowed them in but kept the cold and low pressure air out. He got off onto the landing, duffle carried over his shoulder, and moved to the nearby check-in station as he’d been instructed to. From there various handlers escorted him off through underground tunnels and into the mountain range of a complex where he was inundated with people…all Star Force, and recruits by the look of them, making him feel like this was Star Force’s version of the upper class in high school…meaning he was at the bottom of the totem pole all over again.
But at least he’d have company, for there were a lot of other recruits fresh off of basic training that he was assigned quarters with. Unlike his first dip into the basic training world, there was no survival or combat scenario, just an introductory meeting and an assignment to a training team, which he met up with the next day, headed up by an active commando that was overseeing a staff of trainers that likewise oversaw all 1000 of Rio’s team.
Together, they’d be competing against other teams, both in terms of scores and combat scenarios, meaning that they were all starting out at the same place as he was…rookies, and they’d have to learn and grow together, else, the commando warned, they’d never get their official rank, for while a commando had to be able to take on a ‘one man army’ role at any given time, it was essential that they be able to work together for maximum advantage, which was something they’d need when facing superior opponents…such as some of the other teams that had been at this facility for a few years.
Rio knew that meant he might have to go up against Raven, Styk, and Julie at some point…which he wasn’t looking forward to, but who knew. After a year or so he might feel differently, for he got the feeling that his previous ‘education’ in basic really was just the beginning, and that he was about to be indoctrinated into a whole new level of badass...
5
March 1, 2460
Solar System
Mars
“Today is the day you take your training to the next level,” Tamon Sla said to Rio’s team, designated Epsilon 12, as they were back in the amphitheater for another lecture/instruction session from their commando overseer. The man appeared in casual uniform on the center stage, with a much larger version of him being displayed on the vid screen behind, which was the only way Rio was able to get a good look at the small vile he held in his hand.
“This is a concoction that we call ‘ambrosia.’ It boosts your energy levels and allows you to train longer and harder than before. With proper doses, you’ll be able to lengthen your running workouts immediately…with improper doses you’ll be in your bunks with a monster headache the likes of which you’ve probably never experienced before. This stuff is potent. Take too much and you’ll regret it.”
“Both the Knights and Archons rely on the stuff, but do not misunderstand me when I say that this aids in your training…it doesn’t replace it. Ambrosia alone won’t make you strong, it amplifies the training process, and that training is what upgrades your bodies. Use it wisely, and ambrosia will advance you through the abilities levels far faster than your current rate of progress.”
So that’s how they got so strong, Rio thought, one piece of the gigantic Star Force puzzle finally falling into place. He and the other recruits were far inferior to the training marks of line units, and he wondered how they’d ever be able to measure up…even if they did have hundreds of years of training to do it.
“Over the next month you will be given no new challenges. Your fitness training is going to take precedence. Learn to use the ambrosia properly, let it upgrade your workouts and determine your proper doses before you return to your normal training. I cannot overemphasize the importance of this transitional period. It is key. So listen to your trainers and be cautious in upping your dosage. Over time, as your workouts increase, your body will be able to use more, so don’t try to copy others. If you took one of mine you’d overdose in all its painful glory, so much so it might kill you…or maybe you might just want to die.”
“You don’t take this,” he said, holding up the vile. “This is far too much. We measure it in foodstuffs that are laced with an exact amount. We never drink the liquid. The doses are too small to measure in this form. From now on you’ll have access to the new foodstuffs. Be wary not to confuse them with your others. They’ll be set aside in a different area, just don’t forget these aren’t snacks. They’re precisely measured ambrosia doses, and different types of foodstuffs have different amounts, so don’t grab one without checking. The heavy doses won’t be available, because none of you will need them, but in other Star Force facilities they will be, so don’t grab one a ranger would take, or, like I said, you’ll be in a world of hurt.”
Rio listened intently as Sla talked them through various applications of the ambrosia, as well as things not to do with it in training. He tried to soak it all in, but a lot of it he just didn’t understand, and he hoped that was because it required some measure of experience to grasp…but if he did miss anything some of his teammates would figure it out and explain it later, so he didn’t worry. They’d gotten good at information sharing and helping each other with training, because it had become apparent early on that the better they made each other, the better the team became, and they really wanted to outdo the other teams on their level…if not take a few of the senior ones down.
They had a total of five years to work together towards graduation, at which point the team would either be advanced or failed, as a group, based on their challenge performances, both man to man and against the various automated courses. If the team passed, then the individuals would all face their own final trials. If completed they’d earn the position and status as a Regular, the ‘lowest’ level of Star Force’s superhumans.
But Rio knew it wasn’t low by any standard. It meant he’d be one of the elite, and he was sure going to have to earn it, given the way they were being trained. If he didn’t make it after 5 years he’d be recycled back into a newly formed team and get the chance to go through it all over again, hopefully taking his experience and skills and adding to them enough to make it through a second time.
Sla had told them about one particular commando that was a friend of his, and how he’d gone through three times before finally making it, but once he did he became one of the most steady and reliable commandos in his former unit. Shooting stars burned out, he explained, but it was the steady progressor that climbed their way up the ability ladder, and it was the steady progressor that Star Force was interested in.
Hitting a plateau was the one thing nobody wanted, with those that appeared ‘gifted’ often doing so. No commando got to being what they were by luck, privilege, or favor. They had to earn it, over and over again, so there could be no mistake about their skills and their ability to continually increase them.
Which was what Rio was focused on. He was competitive, for sure. All of them were. But he didn’t get hung up on the rankings like others did. He was focused on improving…fast or slow, but always improving. That was the one thing that kept him going, despite all the craziness of their training schedule. Ignoring the big picture and focusing on taking tiny steps forward. Between that and the support of his teammates, he figured he had a decent chance of graduating along with the rest of them in this go through, but if he didn’t, he’d already decided to stick it out as long as needed, 100 years if necessary. He wasn’t going to quit. He was going to become a commando, one way or another.
“You ready?”
“I hope so,” Rio said, running a finger under the tight neckline of his training suit. “I’ve only got three days left.”
“Anxiousness will slow you down,” the trainer warned. “You need to relax a hair, and do it by living in the moment. All that matters is moving…not the implications of what happens if you fail.”
“Got it.”
“Step up.”
Rio did as instructed, mounting the small pedestal that would start him on the 3rd of 5 trials…the only one left for him to pass. This was his 17th attempt, and he wasn’t very confident in his luck changing this go around.
As instructed he put those thoughts aside, focusing on his body position as a clear tube dropped down around him, sealing him in. He focused on his breathing, timing it right as he heard the countdown tones and dropped into a crouch. When the final one sounded the top of his tube opened and water poured down, flooding him. Patiently he held still, feeling his buoyancy manifest as he held his breath with his right hand pinching his nose until the water settled, then he launched himself up, pushing off the floor, and grabbed the top rim of the cylinder for additional leverage.
Carrying as much momentum with him as he could, he swam up some 20 meters until he broke the surface on an indoor lake, blowing out a bit of water and jerking his head around, getting his bearings.
There was a dock to his left, shore to his right, and jungle straight ahead…but he chose none of them. Swimming about, he headed behind him and across the long part of the lake to a wall that appeared unclimbable, but from previous experience he knew it contained small handholds, something he’d learned by watching one of his friends go through the trial.
It was a long swim, about 300 meters in length, but when he got to the wall he had to swim around even more until he found the right spot. Digging his fingers into the small indents, he pulled himself out of the water and began scaling the wall, making sure not to slip and fall back down as he had before, knowing he was on the clock.
He had to get to one of the exits within 12 minutes, and Rio didn’t want to waste seconds here.
When he got to the top he held position, glancing down the walkway that was on the other side. The placement of the turrets changed with each trial, so one couldn’t map out the best way through with successive tries. He spotted one to his far right, but that was it, and it was doubtful it could hit him at this range.
Rio launched himself up and over the wall on his ambrosia-enhanced muscles and ran across the walkway to a small building, ducking down outside the front door where a low wall gave him some cover. A few stingers followed him, but the turret wasn’t able to land any. Rio held still in a crouch behind the wall for a moment, then crawled across the doorway and around the corner of the building, chancing a look around the wall, then running out around it and into the jungle shrubbery.
He knew he had to move fast, for the exit he was making for was around the other side of the lake. The closest ones were well guarded, as they all were, but the outside of the dome wasn’t a smooth wall, and he’d learned that there was a rimward entrance to one of them that avoided most of the typical turret nests…but it meant a lot of running with little time to do it.
And he couldn’t run straight line either. He had to zigzag, pausing to listen and look for turrets…not to mention a scattering of trainers with stinger rifles and snipes. They roamed about wherever they pleased, which was why Rio had chosen to swim for the wall. They would have seen him do so, which meant they would be repositioning around the perimeter towards those exits…all the while he was running the opposite direction. With luck, he should be able to slip by them, but so far his plan had failed 3 times.
He’d gotten nicked by a turret each time, which slowed him down enough to make him easy pickings for the trainers…especially when he got hit in a leg. No, his problem was he was rushing too much, which he knew was counterproductive. Like his trainers had been drilling into his head for years, he had to survive in order to succeed…and this time that meant going slow and ‘safe’ despite the hounding of the ever counting clock.
Tree after tree he passed, ducking down occasionally to get his bearings and line of sight on his next sprint. He found three new turrets enroute, but spotted them far enough ahead that they couldn’t blindside him. Adjusting his course each time, he moved around them, trimming what seconds he could off his trip until he got up to a section of sand bisecting the jungle that had two turrets up against the wall and several other pairs dotting the stretch all the way down to the lake…meaning the only way to get by these was move back down to the lake and take a swim, or take your chances running across.
Rio took two seconds to plot out his path, then sprinted out onto the sand, immediately drawing stingers his way. He jumped up and fell into a somersault, coming back up on his feet and running sideways…then skidded to a halt in a baseball slide before shooting off another direction, messing with the motion trackers as much as he could. Give the programming a straight line trajectory to follow and predict and you were as good as dead…meaning a direct sprint across the gap was a no go.
Rio got past the halfway point in the sand clean, then caught a stinger on his left thumb. His entire hand went numb, but his wrist on up still worked, meaning he was still almost completely mobile. The next somersault was awkward, but he managed to keep his momentum and get near to the edge of the sand, resisting the urge to sprint the rest of the way and throwing in another right angle pivot, rolling across the sand and then jumping back to his feet at an angle, with two stingers peppering the ground where his body would have been had he moved directly toward the trees.
Four more powerful strides and he was up to a sprint again, which he carried into the brush that shredded the stingers flying at him, making a shotgun-like effect of paint splinters that blanketed his back. He felt little patches of numbness pop up, but his torso motion wasn’t affected, nor were his legs that had escaped the paint shrapnel.
And then Rio was through, with his mind not lingering on that fact as he moved off closer to the dome edge, running away from his target exit and slightly backwards as he came within a few meters of the sand he’d just crossed, only all the way up near the wall. Carefully he snuck around a rock outcropping and ducked past the turrets, then climbed up out of the trees and ran through a narrow trench between the rocks that protected him from view on either side.
He was in the clear for turrets, he hoped, then caught a glance of paint splatter in front of him as a stinger from behind overshot. Pushing his speed as much as he could on the rough terrain, he ducked close to the side rocks, trying to disrupt the firing line of the sniper he knew was behind him. With little else to do aside from cross his fingers for luck, he ran through the trench and eventually made it to the far end, coming back out into the trees, having bypassed the thickest of the permanent turret fields.
Ducking down on reflex, he dropped beneath a pair of stingers flying through the air and rolled to the right, taking cover behind a tree. He held position and got his bearings, then sprinted off to another tree further on. Two more and he was past the turret and nearing the exit, which he knew would be guarded by multiple defense points.
When they came into view he held up, thinking fast how he was going to get through them. The others had used multiple tactics, none of which seemed especially good, so he chose a really bad one…in that it was slow. Backtracking a few meters he found a tree he liked and started to climb it, getting up as high as he could, then jumping from one tree to another, cringing as he could practically feel the seconds ticking off the clock.
Five tree hops later and he was past the turrets, which was the moment of truth. He grabbed a branch and swung his legs over, dropping to the ground in a crouch and sprinting for the finish inside a cave as the turrets rotated around when they picked him up on their motion trackers. He threw in a zigzag motion a couple of seconds later, not wanting to give them a stable target, then felt his right shoulder go numb a split second before he stumbled forward and fell to the ground, tumbling into a somersault that took him through the blue energy field that marked the finish.
Without his right arm working, Rio pulled his legs up to his chest then rocked forward, rolling up onto his heels and standing up as he heard the triumphant finish tone sound, indicating that he not only succeeded in passing the trial, but completed all trials…meaning he’d just earned his commando credentials.
An uncontrollable smile broke out on his face as a medic appeared and walked over, injecting him with a destunning serum that brought his arm back to life, along with all the other little numb spots covering his body.
“Thanks,” he said, rotating his arm around and confirming that it was back to normal.
The medic nodded and walked off, with Rio following him out of the cave exit and into the hallway beyond, transitioning from naturalistic environment to the urban landscape that made up the bulk of the training center. A few steps out he found Sla waiting.
“End of the road,” he said, grabbing his shoulder and steering him to the left. “Come with me.”
“Is there more?” Rio asked with a frown.
“There’s always more…something that you need to remember, commando. Time to find out where you’re going next.”
Rio didn’t ask any further questions, simply walking with the man over to a lift that took them somewhere else within the facility, somewhere that he’d never been before. When the doors eventually opened Sla led him out into some sort of a control center, a single, empty room with a bank of terminals ringing a holographic pad…a small version, making for an intimate room that reeked of importance.
“When a commando is minted, as you’ve just been, assignments are given here. There’s a complicated selection process that you don’t need to concern yourself with the details of, but it’s all highly automated. Unit commanders make their preferences early, with priority ratings, then when you finish I come over here and input your ID tag,” he said, typing in Rio’s number, “and we see where you end up.”
Sla took a step back and looked at where the hologram was…or rather should have been, for it was displaying nothing.
“Wait for it,” Sla said, picking up on Rio’s thoughts. He’d overseen so many mintings that he was familiar with all the various reactions, and Rio wasn’t anything new.
About 20 seconds went by, then a holographic icon popped up, drawing a raised eyebrow from Sla.
“Well, well…look what we have here,” he said, seeing the rare headband icon emblazoned a meter tall in between the two men. “You’ve been recruited by Clan.”
“Clan Metal Gear?” Rio asked, recognizing the symbol.
“One of the better commando Clans at that. Most new commandos get assigned to colonial mainline units. About 18% go out to the Clans. You might not stay there forever, there’s a bit of mixing going back and forth, but apparently someone values your skillset enough to put in a bid for you. Take a moment to appreciate that, then dispense with the good feelings. You’re about to leave kidsville and get your eyes opened to what experienced commandos are capable of.”
Rio locked eyes with him. “Looking forward to it.”
6
August 26, 2464
Solar System
Uranus
Rio rode the dropship down from the starport, seeing the greenish/blue atmosphere of the planet grow in size until it swallowed up the vid screen view, and still their destination wasn’t visible. Braking against their own orbital momentum coming off the starport, the dropship eventually slowed to a near hover, matching the drifting motion of the Snake Pit that was riding the upper atmosphere below them, partially obscured in the gas giant’s haze.
The colony wasn’t on the surface of the planet, because the planet had no surface. It was layer after layer of gasses, mostly hydrogen and helium, that transitioned down into a blender-like mantle of gas and ices. This gave it no true surface to land or build on, with the center core of the planet being made of rocky material…material that Clan Metal Gear was convinced contained significant corovon deposits.
Trace amounts of Herotol, a gas whose atomic structure included a single corovon along with 8 protons and 4 neutrons, had been discovered in the atmosphere of Uranus, and the Clan had been adamant about probing for deposits within the core. Davis had eventually granted them permission to try, and Clan Metal Gear had built the Snake Pit to facilitate those ongoing efforts.
The city/colony floated on anti-grav engines…a lot of engines, with backups for the backups, to keep it afloat and away from the dangerous interior. With pressures and temperatures rising the deeper one went into the planet, the more exotic the stages of matter became, with bits of liquid hydrogen mixed in with the rock, all of which was in a molten state. The thick ‘atmosphere’ contained the heat, preventing there from being a solid center, resulting in mud-like layers of material, sorted out by their densities and magnetic properties.
The corovon, if in its pure form, would have sunk to the center of the planet…in theory. There was no way to scan that deep, so the Metal Gears’ efforts were more exploratory than mining, and so far they hadn’t been able to penetrate anywhere near deep enough to get at the center of the planet, but they had been recovering other compounds that contained corovon, in small amounts, which made the facility worthwhile in the interim as they continued to upgrade their technology and devise ever more interesting techniques to get at the core.
Though Rio couldn’t see them, coming down from atop as the dropship was, there were thin tethers dropping off the bottom of the circular city that connected down to mining probes that were collecting material at varying depths. Hydrogen and helium collection were being harvested en mass, then exported out to the rest of the Clan, along with methane and other gasses in the upper atmosphere.
Over the years many of those tendrils had snapped, due to the winds, but the Clan had kept at it, devising more flexible and robust connections, allowing them to sway about without breaking. None of them were manned, but the underside of the city was covered in tendril mounts, letting the miners within the Snake Pit fish for whatever resources they wanted, when they wanted, with 12 currently deployed, two of which were deep probes.
Those probes were designed to penetrate the non-gaseous layers, coming into contact with liquids and ices, though those ices were not ‘solid,’ being churned up and moved about in a high pressure environment. Those probes were out of the prototype stage, and were reliable enough to pull in a slew of material into their ‘bulbs,’ which sat at the opposite end of the tethers. Those bulbs were miniature processing centers, sifting through the mix of material and discarding what they didn’t want. What they did want they shot up the tendrils to the city, where the more or less pure material was collected and put to use.
Power and control lines were located in the tendrils, meaning that if one got cut the only way to deal with the situation was to reel it up, fix the damage, and send it back down…which took hours, if not days. When powered, small anti-grav units in the bulb assisted with the lifting, but if they went out the Snake Pit had to physically haul them up, and if they tried to pull them in too fast the tethers would snap and they’d lose the bulb altogether.
That had happened several times in the beginning, before the engineers got a handle on the stresses and somewhat predictable nature of the turbulence in the planet. Those bulbs were now floating somewhere in the mantle, they assumed, but with no onboard power there was no way to locate them, though if they did have an active tracking beacon it was unlikely that it would have been detectable from the city’s location. Another probe might have been able to pick it up within a few kilometers, but without power another probe could pass within 1 meter of the lost bulbs and not even know they were there.
The Clan didn’t like littering, but the failures paid off in the form of new, more durable constructions, and they didn’t lose many nowadays. The only ones they did were the deep core probes that were still in what they labeled as a prototype stage. None of those were currently deployed, as the Clan engineers were still working on designing upgrades after the last mission that had narrowly brought back the bulb after it hit a pocket of turbulence within the molten core that had stretched the tether far beyond expectations. It had been raised back up in time to preserve the tether, but there had been so much stress damage that it was easier to build an entirely new one rather than attempt to repair the damage.
As fascinating as all of that was, Rio wasn’t here to assist with the mining or engineering efforts. The Snake Pit was a fully functional colony housing some 18 million people inside the floating city. This was to be his first assignment, along with thousands of other Clan Metal Gear commandos that were on hand for military readiness, should an alert come through they need to be deployed nearby in the system or, in the unlikely case of an internal problem, combat within the city itself.
That aside, most of the commandos were here for training…and trials combat. The Snake Pit was one of the permanent trials sites, meaning that not only commandos, but Knights and Archons would be there in large numbers, eager to battle each other to gain status and rewards for their Clans, as well as combat experience for themselves. While there were no mechs or aircraft trials taking place here, save for on simulators, there was an aquatics section within the city, allowing for real water combat in addition to the simulators, which Rio found to be absolutely crazy.
Water warfare, inside a city that was floating in the upper atmosphere of a gas giant? Now that was something he was definitely going to have to see for himself, but more than anything else, the Snake Pit was renowned for its commando trials, with few facilities in the Solar System that could match its varied challenge courses. Clan Metal Gear typically maintained a Top 10 ranking amongst the Clans, and a Top 15 ranking with mainline and Canderous units through in.
All divisions of the Star Force military took part, using the trials to hone their personnel, as well as experiment with new tactics, giving their troops practical experience before being sent out to the warfront. The most experience Regulars, Knights, and Archons were out there, fighting the war, with a few remaining behind to take care of business in Sol, with them occasionally joining in to help their teams or give the newbs a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget.
Rio was arriving with a dropship full of new Clan personnel. About half of them were commandos, but there were also techs and medics, with one administrator and two personnel relations division, who they referred to as either attendants, facilitators, or handlers, based on what task they were assigned to. All of them were new acquires by the Clan, and as such had never been to the Snake Pit before, so Rio didn’t know any less than they did upon landing.
The dropship came down through heavy atmospheric shields into an ‘open air’ landing bay that had more shield than roof covering it. Dozens of dropships were coming and going, most with cargo, but there was a steady stream of personnel transiting back and forth up to one of the starports in orbit. A city/colony of this size had to have a busy link into the transit network, but it still impressed Rio, given the fact that they were in such a remote location…from his point of view, anyway.
Uranus was, to most Star Force personnel, a part of ‘home’ that they considered the Solar System to be. Only to a rookie, who’d lived his entire life on Earth and Mars, would consider the blue/green planet to be ‘remote.’
Rio walked out of the dropship, duffle over his shoulder, along with the others and reported into the processing station where they each received their quarters assignment and information on when and where to report for duty. Unlike with his training, there was no one here to meet, greet, and lead him around. He guessed this was what it was to be a Star Force ‘adult,’ and as overwhelming as the Snake Pit was, with crowded and constant pedestrian traffic, he rather liked the sense of freedom it gave him.
Breaking off from his dropship group, Rio took an impromptu tour through the city as he almost immediately got lost. He had several hours before he was due to report for duty, so he embraced the moment and wandered, crossing through civilian sections and realizing they weren’t Star Force personnel roaming about, but denizens that had come to make the Snake Pit their home. There were business vendors everywhere, along with what looked like a decent amount of tourists, but interspersed amongst them all were the obvious Star Force uniforms, making for an integrated population that moved about within the city, with each person attending to their own duties or prerogatives.
Rio thought about dropping in and catching a movie, but he was carrying his duffle so he thought better of it and kept walking, but did stop to buy a specialty sugar stick, the kind of thing that didn’t come free in Star Force cafeterias. This one was laced with chocolate and other novelties, then twisted up into an exotic design that caught his eye. It cost half a credit, which he pulled from his personal account via his ID card, then he walked off, slowly devouring his treat as he explored the city.
Eventually he got his bearings, with the help of several interactive maps, and moved into one of the Star Force personnel-only sections. It wasn’t long before his curiosity brought him to the gigantic trials complex within the heart of the city, which was itself more of an extravaganza than the entertainment sector had been. There were walkways meandering in and around clear walls that looked down and into the various trials courses, most of which currently had ongoing challenges.
Most were combats between various teams, but some were obstacle courses or other things that required the team to go up against a standard, and then their score would be held up against others. Rio saw that every now and then there were scoreboards superimposed over the windows in hologram, detailing who was currently involved in the challenges and how well they were doing.
Rio saw a hand to hand engagement in full armor taking place between a small group…only a dozen or so on each side. The scoreboard indicated it was his Clan, the Metal Gears, taking on the Ninja Monkeys, with the current score tallied as 123-118. He didn’t know what criteria they were using to mark points, but was glad to see his new Clan on top.
He walked through section after section, taking it all in and resisting the urge to stop and watch, for there were so many. Rio eventually made his way into the aerial division, where he was given holographic battlefields to observe as the pilots, in nearby simulators, fought it out in a variety of engagements, one of which was so large it had to contain several hundred fighters.
After that he passed through a similar section that contained naval engagements, then another for mechs, coming up lastly to the aquatics. That section was split between simulators and several water courses, his favorite of which was the jet boards, which had Regulars and Archons in full body suits riding on what looked like surf boards on top of the water. Their feet were apparently locked in, and they were zipping about tagging targets by hand in some sort of scramble race.
Commando as he was, that looked like so much fun he wished for a moment that he could switch divisions.
“You lost?” a voice asked from behind him.
Rio turned around and his eyes widened as he saw the white uniform with red stripe that denoted an Archon adept.
“No…yes, well, I was, but…I’m just looking around before I report for duty.”
“Commando?”
“Yes. I just graduated.”
“Newb then,” the Archon said, eyes narrowing a bit. “You like the jet boards?”
“I wish we could use them,” he said sarcastically, glancing back at the ongoing challenge.
A confused expression crossed the Archon’s face. “Who do you think that is in there?”
Rio did a double take. “Aquatics?”
“And commandos,” he explained. “Aquatics operate mostly underwater, so being on the surface is kind of a neutral zone between them and the commandos. Sometimes aquatics use the jet boards, sometimes the commandos do, and then sometimes they do mixed challenges, like this one. Clan Mantle commandos are taking on Clan Sneaky Fox aquatics in a non-points match.”
Rio fought back a smirk, for he couldn’t help himself. He’d become familiar with all the names, but hearing the Archon say it in such a serious manner was ironic.
“Something funny?”
“Sorry, Archon. It’s just that some of the Clan names are serious, and then some are…”
“Less so?”
“Exactly.”
The Archon nodded. “Each of the original Archons got to choose their Clan name. Some went for serious, others for ironic or funny. Now, none of them are funny. I look at Clan Sneaky Fox and I see the Clan, its strengths and weaknesses, all the times I’ve engaged them in combat. Only rookies and civilians find it humorous.”
“But why did some of the trailblazers choose funny names in the first place?”
The Archon shrugged. “You’d have to ask them.”
Rio nodded. “Just curious. What Clan are you?”
“Clan Aquaman. You’re a Metal Gear, I assume?”
“Yes, how could you tell?”
“Fresh out of graduation, carrying a duffle…means this is your first assignment. And no rookie goes straight to the trials.”
“Right,” Rio agreed.
“Given that these are your new stomping grounds, I expect you’ll find yourself on a jet board eventually. Just make sure you wear a full suit. You may have had swimming training, but you’ll half drown before you get your feet unlocked from the board if you aren’t aquatics…or really familiar with the boards. So make sure you and your buddies wear the masks.”
“I’ll remember that,” Rio promised.
“Carry on,” the Archon said, walking off.
“Right,” Rio whispered, resetting his duffle over his shoulder and moving on through the aquatics section until he eventually found his way back around to the commando courses. He lingered there, finding more and more new combat variations that he hoped to try at some point, before finally heading off to find his quarters and settle in.
When he finally reported for duty it was a basic information session along with 30 or so other freshly minted commandos. As it turned out, he wasn’t going to have to wait long to get his taste of the trials, for it seemed that Clan Metal Gear favored a 50/50 split between training and combat in the Snake Pit, given that they had the trials facilities on hand. They said that meant the new commandos coming here had an opportunity to rise through the ranks faster than others…so long as they kept up their physical training.
It was an arduous combination, but they hadn’t been recruited by the Clan to take things easy or slow. Rio had been chosen, it seemed, because of his steady progression. Others had been more streaky, rising quickly then plateauing…only to break through and repeat the process. The Metal Gears wanted rookies who could grind their way through training and combat simultaneously, absorbing far more experience than others could in a short period of time, and only those who had a firm grasp on the principles of adaptation and ascension could be expected to survive in that intense environment.
Those that couldn’t would crack and their workouts would tank…then they’d have to reset themselves and get their mojo back on a purely training program. That wasn’t altogether bad, for those that had gone through that process had come out stronger for it in the long run, but it wasn’t the preferred path, and every now and then you’d get a commando that would say they’d had enough and quit, returning to civilian life...but Rio was past that point. He was a commando for keeps, no matter how hard a regimen the Metal Gears put him through.
7
October 12, 2464
Solar System
Uranus
Rio walked out into the ‘Arena’ along with 74 other Metal Gear commandos, each wearing their signature camo green uniforms. The single color motif was broken up by black stripes down the sides of the arms and legs, with black safety sunglasses that looped around the left ear holding a comm piece. Lastly, each of the commandos wore a headband with tails, a bit of a flourish the Clan liked to sport in situations where an opponent couldn’t grab hold of it to gain leverage.
Across the Arena course there was another 75 commandos from Clan Firestorm in their orange uniforms with equally orange safety glasses and earpieces. To Rio’s left in the Arena was the light blue uniformed Clan Saber, and to his right was Clan Kirk in yellow with gold trim. In the middle, separating them all, was an irregular pyramid topped with a finish pedestal. The goal of this challenge was simple…get to the top and press the button to win. Getting there ahead of the others was the challenge, especially when everyone was armed with stingers.
Rio had two pistols, each with a clip of 40 rounds. That made them heavier than usual, and a bit awkward to aim, but he needed the extra clip size because they weren’t allowed to carry spares. That meant once you ran out you had no further ability to hinder the opposing Clans, leaving it as a race to the top, for hand to hand combat was barred in this challenge.
The rest of the Metal Gears had an assortment of weapons, all chosen to maximize their Clan’s chances. Rio was tagged as a rusher, which meant that when the start tone sounded he was to flank the other Clans and try to take down as many of their people as he could while some of his teammates made their way up towards the top, grabbing strongholds as they went. While the pyramid’s highest elevation was at the peak, there were several others enroute, separated by valleys, that offered good sniping positions…which those of his team so equipped would be heading for first off.
It wasn’t a quick climb to the top, but if they didn’t get their snipers in place Clan Saber and Clan Kirk would make more progress than they should, grabbing up additional strongpoints, so the game was as much about hindering your opponents as it was about climbing to the summit. The tricky part was, the Metal Gears couldn’t see Clan Firestorm, for the pyramid was blocking their view and firing lines, meaning they were going to have to trust the other two Clans to keep them hindered, and vice versa.
Rio and the others lined up on the starting grid, 25 wide by three deep, with him on the extreme left flank first in line. He could see the Sabers well off in the distance, for the Arena was absolutely huge, yet only the third largest off all the challenge courses. They were his target, and his first attempt in a counting trial. Before now he’d been running through practice challenges with other Clan Metal Gear commandos, but now the outcome counted in the rankings, and he wanted to do everything he could to measure up…which right now meant shooting Sabers.
The start tone sounded, blaring out across the vast empty chamber as onlookers formed a ring around the top where the observation windows were. Rio took off sprinting while moving to the left, heading for the lowest of the strongpoints…a stubby elevated nook on the lowest level that formed the corner of the pyramid. It wasn’t a high value spot, because other nearby strongpoints were at a higher elevation, and with no roofs the high ground would rule, but he needed to get there in order to get around to the Saber side on the flat before he took to climbing.
The rest of the Metal Gears split up, each heading towards their individual assignments. Nearly all of them were faster than Rio and moved ahead of him, including the other four that were tasked to go after the Sabers. He found himself getting to the mini-fort last, but just in time to see one of his Clan get shot in the chest by a Saber as they both got to the corner at nearly the same time.
Rio brought both pistols up and peppered the area with stingers, catching the Saber with two of them. It was a waste of ammo, but a takedown none the less. He kept his pistols raised as he ran up to the spot and took cover on his side of the strongpoint, wondering how many others were on the other side.
“You’re clear,” he heard in his earpiece. “Get going.”
Rio didn’t bother to respond. Less talk was preferable in an engagement like this. He took two steps and rounded the corner, hanging close to the wall and seeing none of the Sabers ahead of him…at least until he got to the edge of the strongpoint box and the first level of the pyramid came into view, inset as it was from the corners. They were everywhere, all climbing up various routes, with some shooting back at the Metal Gears above his head in the strongpoint they’d claimed.
“Ok, time to get crazy,” he said, sprinting off, not towards the pyramid, but at an angle away from it, drifting back towards the Sabers’ starting position as he headed for the center of their side. No one bothered to shoot at him as he ran, probably because they didn’t want to waste ammunition, and he eventually got to the center and swung about, now fully behind the other Clan and following in their footsteps.
“Point 7 and 9,” he reported, noting the strongpoints where the Sabers were headed for the benefit of the others. After that he picked the closest Sabers and went after them, nowhere near close enough to hit, but gaining ground quickly. He didn’t go unnoticed, and caught the swivel of sniper rifle from one of the lower strongpoints the Sabers had just claimed as it came around to target him.
Rio immediately went into a zigzag, making it difficult for the sniper to steady his aim, and as a result no incoming fire rained down on him. Again, with the limited ammo, it wasn’t worth risking a shot until he got closer…then he was toast.
But fortunately he wasn’t working alone, for as the sniper took aim at him a Metal Gear sniper took aim at him and used several rounds of ammo to take him out, giving Rio a narrow opportunity to get up to the first level of the pyramid and take cover.
He backed up against the wall and caught his breath, then turned left and ran a few steps to one of the ladders, climbing it awkwardly with a pistol in each hand, but he got up and onto the second tier and ran to the closest bit of cover. Fortunately the pyramid wasn’t trim, but rather had a zigzaggy configuration of its own, so now that he was in amongst all the cracks he had a fair chance of getting to at least one of the Sabers before he was taken down.
The problem was the strongpoints. They stuck out and up, allowing good shooting positions to rain down stingers on him and everyone else nearby. Not all of them were claimed, for the higher you got the better, so the Sabers were skipping over most of the lower ones and rushing for the mid-level fortifications. Had Rio a sniper or even a standard rifle he could have taken one of the lower ones and used it to hamper their rise, but he didn’t. Meaning he was going to have to go at it in close range combat.
Remembering where the closest routes were that the Sabers had taken up, for there were many, he hurried his way up from one level to another, pausing where necessary to keep from running into an ambush, though he needn’t have worried, for the Sabers were climbing so fast he was still well behind them. From his vantage point he couldn’t see that, but soon he was to get additional instructions from one of the Metal Gear sniper/spotters.
“Rio, head left four ladders, then up two levels. That should give you a flanking position on a nest of Sabers we’ve got pinned down. Hurry.”
Rio took off running, not bothering to be cautious, and scrambled over to his ladder and climbed, crossed the flat, and climbed again. When he got up it he jogged to the right, both pistols ready, moving in and out of cover as he rounded what were essentially oddly angled corners while trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. He was out of view of his own snipers most of the time, meaning they couldn’t guide him, so when he came up on the Sabers it was as much of a surprise to him as it was to them.
There were four of them, two of which had their backs to him. He didn’t hesitate when he saw their blue uniforms and started firing as rapidly as he could pull the pair of triggers…
The next thing he knew he was waking up staring at the Arena ceiling, which was a massive set of tiny light bars that he’d never noticed before.
“You with me?” one of his Clan Metal Gear teammates said, snapping his fingers in front of his face.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he said, sitting up. “Is it over?”
“Not even close,” the man said, tapping the ground. “Just brought you back. Take this, the Sabers won’t be needing it.”
Rio glanced down and saw the meter-wide square he sat on, recognizing it as a destunning pad. There were several spaced around the pyramid, which meant he’d been dragged over here to be revived. He took the stinger rifle from his teammate, reflexively checking to see how many rounds he had left, which was about 50 or so, given that it looked like half a clip.
“Which side are we on?”
“Metal Gear side. Fighting’s up top, I was assigned to cleanup. Get up there and help where you can.”
“On it,” Rio said, jumping to his feet and feeling the last bit of pins and needles being pulled out of them as he stepped off the pad and searched for the nearest ladder, finding instead a ramp of stone-like steps. He ran up to the next level, then the following 16 before he got up to the back lines of the Metal Gears and into one of their occupied strong points. He crawled over to an open spot on the rim ledge that three others were camped out behind.
He pulled up enough to look out, seeing Sabers poking around the edge of the pyramid and shooting at the Metal Gears climbing up two levels ‘above’ them, but that were now even with the elevated strongpoint he was in.
“Elsa, two on your left,” he said into his comm piece after a blink command into sunglasses, now taking on the role of a spotter.
“Rio, you up for a tandem run?” the commando next to him said, who was also holding a mostly useless standard rifle at their current range to targets.
“Take point,” he agreed, following the more experienced commando out and down the stairs to the level below, then over to a ladder where they began to make their way up, with Rio loving every moment of it.
8 years later Rio was with his Metal Gear teammates, this time one of the experienced ones…well, more experienced, for they had a considerable amount of newbs with them, climbing up the Arena pyramid and near to the top with four shots left in his stinger pistol, one that he’d picked up off a stunned Clan Skystrike commando three levels down. He’d been climbing unarmed before that, with half of the Metal Gears remaining having run out of ammo. Pretty soon now and it would turn into a pure footrace…one that he intended to win.
He wasn’t the highest up, at least four others were ahead of him, but the odds of them making it were slim. There was a fierce firefight taking place near the top, with one of the Clans trying to punch out the others by running them out of ammunition and forcing the issue by mounting a surging climb that the others had to counter. Something was about to break, and from past experience it usually meant a lot of stunned bodies being climbed over by a lucky few survivors that stayed hidden amongst the nooks.
In order to beat them he had to get up there first, which meant running the gauntlet. Rio wouldn’t be the only one of his Clan doing so, but with a few flankers designated to guard duty he had a decent shot of making it up…or helping one of the others do the same.
Rio scrambled as quick as he could, hearing the whiffs of stinger fire starting to wither out, and came up behind one of his Clansmen who waved him on while maintaining a specific firing line. Rio went without hesitation and climbed up the ladder, hearing the other commando fire off two shots, followed by the ‘thump’ of a body falling nearby. This close to the top each side was getting progressively narrower, meaning less of a divide between the four Clans.
Rio made it up to the fourth level from the top before he got caught up in a firefight that left his right arm numb. Fortunately all commandos were trained to shoot equally well with both hands, and he switched over to his left and kept on climbing. When he got up to the third level he saw a Clan Thunderfist commando reach the top…then immediately get hit by three stingers from three different shooters. She dropped and rolled off the flat top down to the first level and out of sight as one of Rio’s teammates caught up to him and hunkered down by his side.
“What do you think?”
“Still hot up here.”
“I’ll lead you up to two.”
“Alright,” Rio said, following him over to the steps. “Go.”
The two of them sprinted up, rounding the curve in the climb as the other commando fired off a couple of shots before getting stunned himself. Rio hurdled him and jumped head first up onto the next level, crawling up next to the wall for cover, now being two more climbs from the top…but that wasn’t his destination. He was here to help the others up, and with only a handful of meters on either side of him this was the end zone where everything got dicey, for the other Clans were almost within touching range.
Sitting in the middle wasn’t going to offer much help, so Rio moved around a pointy section to the far left where he set up, able to snipe down onto the Skystrike side if need be, or around onto the same level to…
His pistol came up and fired a single shot that nailed a Skystrike in the chest who noticed him a split second too late. He went down next to a ladder, then Rio made a snap decision and abandoned his post. He ran over to the downed commando and knelt next to the ladder and man, appropriating his pistol and checking the clip count. It only had two shots left, compared to his three, so he let it lay, unable to use his right hand to dual wield.
With the area behind him being friendly territory, he took a chance and climbed the ladder, hoping not to get shot in the back, and climbed up belly first over the edge to stay low. Now there was only one climb left to get to the summit, he was ever so close…which was why he fought the urge to jump up to the top and win the challenge for his Clan. He’d be toast the moment he exposed himself, for they surely still had snipers in play, just as the Metal Gears had.
So he played guard, watching for the next Skystrike to come up and gunning him down with a shot to the head. There were only two ways up, short of jumping and clinging to the edge…which was almost impossible to do with gun in hand, though that hadn’t stopped them from doing it before.
“Skystrike side is secured,” he reported via comm. “Someone get up top.”
“Where are you?”
“Level 1, and I have two stingers left. Hurry,” Rio whispered.
“On it,” Dagan answered.
Rio held position, shooting another Skystrike that came up on his right, leaving him with one shot, then his comm line activated again.
“Rio, Thunderfist is almost up. Go now!”
“Damn it,” he said, dropping his pistol and jumping up directly to the top and grabbing onto the edge of the wall with both hands, forcing his right to suffer through the pins and needles that were now exploding through the denumbing process. The last climb had no stairs, so this was his only option.
Pulling mostly with his left, he got his chest up over top of the flat ‘roof’, seeing two other commandos coming up on the left and far sides. The left one went down to a sniper immediately, leaving just the other to finish climbing up while the two corner boxes, at equal height and a gap of several meters from the top platform, watched on.
Rio got his left leg up and rolled onto the top, then crawled forward as the Thunderfist commando got shot in the leg by a Metal Gear sniper. Keeping low, Rio got over to the pedestal a second before the other commando and slapped his left hand down on the top, pressing the finish button and triggering the blue lighting and end of challenge tone to sound.
The Thunderfist dragged himself up on the pedestal and nodded at Rio.
“Nice job, scum,” he joked.
Rio laughed, and poked the commando in the chest. “Metal Gears have to win. It’s embarrassing if we get beat in our own facility.”
“I’ll try to arrange that next time.”
“You will try,” Rio said, slipping an arm under his shoulders to help him walk with the numb leg.
8
After he and the other Metal Gears evacuated the Arena to let the cleaning crews do a quick job of readying the course for the next challenge, Rio went up to the viewing area and checked out the primary scoreboard detailing the status of all Clans, Star Force mainline units, and Canderian units taking part in the trials…not just here, but across the star system.
The points gained for winning the Arena challenge were small, but they added just a bit more to the Metal Gears’ overall count, which spanned the previous 5 years, helping to secure their position as the 3rd rated commando Clan. Neither the mainline units nor Canderous currently topped them, though the later’s top ranked trials Legion was currently in 4th and nipping away at their heels.
The Canderians had several different tiers of warriors within the trials, which they referred to as ‘Legions’ despite the fact they weren’t structured quite the same as their standard Legions, but they weren’t spread out evenly as the Clans more or less were. They were stacked with the best they had into the Alpha Legion, and they were giving the Metal Gears all they could handle.
They hadn’t gone up against each other for some time, and the Alpha Legion wasn’t on the Snake Pit, but their Gamma Legion was. They were familiar opponents who sought to gain points through running challenge after challenge, figuring they had little to lose so long as Alpha Legion upheld the honor of Canderous. At least that’s what Rio had been told by one of their commandos, but he may have just been making excuses for getting beat at the time. Still, he’d said the other Legions in the trials were more for training purposes, with the Alphas being the prime contenders.
That made some sense to Rio, but given that the Legions were being given equal status with a Clan, he didn’t see how the Gammas could all be second rate commandos, for they were beating 6 of the Clans at present. The mainline units, each large enough to merit ‘Clan’ status in the trials, were currently 68 in number, with additional ones being added as the military grew. Some of them were elite units, he knew, with the 8th army ranking 7th overall in commandos and 17th in mechs, with a less than auspicious 72nd in aerial.
Their 3rd army had the best aerial rank at 18th, with the Clans claiming the top 17 spots. Canderous only had one aerial unit, which they designated as part of Beta Legion, signifying that they didn’t truly consider it a fair contest, given that they were a space-faring civilization with little aerial assets. Their naval scores, on the other hand, had Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta Legions all in the top 50, where they employed their unique remote controlled starfighters in the simulated naval challenges.
Mainline fleets, which were separate entities from mainline armies, held their own against the Canderians and maintained two spots in the top 10, though Paul’s Sabers still maintained their lock on the top spot, with Roger’s Emerald Sharks and Liam’s Neon Squirrels occasionally knocking them off the thrown, only to have the Sabers reclaim it in short order. Behind those three there was a large gap that no one else seemed capable of bridging.
Metal Gear was currently ranked 34th in naval, 52nd in aquatics, 78th in aerial, and 82nd in mechs…which were all top half marks, making the Clan well rounded, unlike, say, Clan Aquaman who held the number 1 ranking in aquatics, but didn’t have their other four divisions inside the top 80 Clan or top 120 overall. They were what was known as a ‘specialized’ Clan, but even still they had good Regulars and Archons in their other divisions, it was just that the competition in the trials was so fierce that if you didn’t put everything you had into developing all your divisions the specialists would eat you alive.
That was the way it was meant to be, with Clan Metal Gear striving to be a full contender, but maintaining its commando pride. As he’d learned, the recruitment process the Clans used was spread out across all disciplines, so if you bid heavily in one area, you had less to bid in others. Now, that was just to attain recruits, and didn’t affect how you trained them afterwards, but there was still a lot of strategy in making the picks, which made Rio overly proud that Metal Gear had chosen him at all, let alone as a commando.
He’d been working hard to live up to their faith in his mettle, and like the others was always eager to monitor their Clan’s progress across all fronts…which left the scoreboard area rather congested, so once he’d taken a quick status check of everything he wanted to see he gently nudged his way past the crowd and out into the traffic flow.
Rio, hold up.
He hadn’t been on the receiving end of too many telepathic communications, but the existence of such things had been made aware to him when he’d reached commando level 5 a few years aback. Since then he’d only been spoken to twice in this form, and it still left him a bit shocked when he heard the Archon’s voice inside his head.
Rio stopped walking and waited for his unseen contact, who appeared some 15 seconds later in the crowd flow and motioned for him to step off to the side. The commando took up a spot on one of the commando course observation windows in his camo green casual uniform as the Archon stepped up beside him in his white with silver trim counterpart.
“Nice grab,” the Archon said, referring to the challenge win. “We can always use the points.”
“Thank you,” Rio said, glancing back and forth between the man and the ongoing battle below.
“My name is Durango-12833. I’m putting together a volunteer unit and your name was brought to my attention. I hear you’re eager for a field assignment?”
Rio’s eyes widened. “Yes I am.”
“Word hasn’t reached the main news yet,” Durango said, lowering his voice a bit as he watched the commandos below fighting it out across a series of fences, “but the Protovic have come under attack. They played it cool early on when the Nestafar switched sides, given that they were their benefactor within the Alliance, but once the Calavari and Nestafar bloodied themselves the Protovic stepped in and safeguarded a handful of Calavari systems along their border. They’re actively fighting the Nestafar there, trying to secure fallback points for the Calavari as the lizards push in, but now they’ve been hit by someone else and are requesting assistance from the Alliance.”
“Not us specifically?”
“No, but so far no one else has been in a position to respond. Everyone is caught up fighting the lizard incursion or covering their own asses. Star Force doesn’t have much to spare, or at least the mainline units don’t. Trailblazer Kip has decided to go to their relief, but doesn’t think that Clan Protoss is strong enough on its own, so he asked Metal Gear to join him. We’ve agreed, and are rounding up as many personnel as we can spare without hurting current deployments.”
“Do you think I’m ready?” Rio asked, a bit concerned.
Durango nodded. “Ready enough. Several of the Protovic’s worlds are under assault, so there will be a lot of opportunities for ground combat. We won’t send you in to get slaughtered, but there should be plenty of cleanup missions where we could put you and other lower ranking commandos to use. The question is, do you feel ready?”
“If I can’t fight lizards, I’ll happily fight their allies. You can count me in.”
The Archon shook his head. “No. The Nestafar aren’t hitting the Protovic territories. The Skarrons are. The bottom end of Zeta Region where it borders Beta is a chaotic mess right now. The Nestafar used to be the major power in the region, and now that their strength is severely depleted other races are making a play for territory and influence. The Skarrons are exploiting the Protovic’s weakness, given that they’ve deployed a significant portion of their military to safeguard the Calavari worlds, and we intend to fill that hole in their defenses.”
Rio nodded his understanding. He didn’t know a lot about the Skarrons, but knew they were a major force coreward of Star Force territory.
“What do they look like?”
“Big and slow quadrupeds with just as many arms. Think elephant and you’ll be close. They can’t match your leg speed, so keep at range and gun them down. They also have two slave races that are much smaller. One isn’t used for combat, the other fights as skirmishers and escorts. They’re quick, but about half your size and biped. It’ll be a different type of combat compared to what you’ve seen on vids of the lizards and Nestafar, but we’ll learn on the go and adapt. You still want in?”
“If you think I can be of use, then yes.”
“It won’t be a mission, it’ll be a campaign. I can’t say when you’ll see Star Force space again.”
“Years?”
“At minimum.”
Rio sighed, realizing what this meant. “I’m here to serve the Clan. If you need me, I’m yours.”
Durango smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man. We leave to rendezvous with the jumpship in 10 days. Have you got a custom set of armor yet?”
“Yes.”
“Bring it. We’ll have spares, but I hate using generic armor. Never seems to fit just right. I’ll have transfer orders waiting for you by tomorrow at the latest,” Durango said, mixing back into the crowd and off to round up more recruits.
Rio turned back to the window, but as his eyes fell on the commandos below his mind was elsewhere. This was what he had been wanting all along, he just didn’t think it would come this soon, or in this fashion. The Skarrons were an entirely different enemy, one that Star Force hadn’t fought before…or at least he didn’t think so. He had some database research to do tonight, learn more about the new enemy…and the ally they were going to the aid of.
It wasn’t until several hours later, when he finally sat down at the computer terminal in his quarters and accessed the restricted files granted to him given his commando status, that he realized just who the Protovic were. He’d known they were part of the Alliance, but he had thought they were a minor player…and they were, compared to the Calavari, Bsidd, Kvash, and Hycre, but he hadn’t even considered the possibility that they were stronger than Star Force.
They had an estimated population of 5 trillion clustered into a dense set of star systems, slightly less than what Star Force currently inhabited, but so much closer together that they were easier to reinforce. They formed an egg-shaped knot of systems that ran parallel to Star Force territory in Beta Region, with the Hycre and dozens of smaller races’ territories stretched out between.
Their fleet was estimated to be three times the size of Star Force’s, which explained to Rio why one Clan wasn’t going to be enough. Each of the Clans was now a monstrous empire of its own, but compared to the size of the Protovic they were still tiny. Sending two would provide enough of a force to assist the aliens in defending their territory, but if they were getting hit, and hit hard by the Skarrons, then there wasn’t a lot that Star Force was going to be able to do…unless their presence would tip the scales one way or the other.
But that didn’t deter Rio. Even if they were smaller, Star Force could give better than they looked numerically. He was both excited and scared to the point his hands were starting to shake…which was when he forced himself to sit back, take a few long breaths, and get his focus. An ally was under attack, and they were going to help them defend their territory. He didn’t need to know the overall tactical situation…they had Archons for that. All he needed was a mission and the means to carry it out, which he would be given at the time.
Rio didn’t care if it was picking up trash, if it helped his Clan aid the Protovic then it was worth his going. He assumed his training would continue in between missions. Jumpships had training facilities, after all, and there was no way the Archons would be caught dead not able to do their workouts…so they had to have those things covered.
Durango, whom he’d known about previously, though never having met the Archon, had said there would be plenty of opportunity for ground combat because several planets, or systems, had been attacked by the Skarrons. That meant he’d be fighting on the ground defending Protovic facilities and people? What did they even look like?
Unfortunately the files didn’t say, for the only pictures were of them in their environment suits. They looked Human, right down to the five digits on their hands, but there was no telling what was underneath that armor…or was it armor? A light version, maybe.
Rio brought up the analysis of their military strength, seeing several notations for their piloting skill. Their warships were larger and more powerful, though slightly less technologically advanced, with them employing Calavari-designed Valeries both in space and in-atmosphere. Their ground troops were less robust, but what they lacked in vehicular strength they made up for in speed, utilizing a slew of anti-grav tanks that, according to a note in the file, fared poorly against the Nestafar walkers except for when they swarmed them with overwhelming numbers.
Nothing was mentioned about aquatics, and Rio knew that not all races had them, just as Star Force didn’t have a starfighter division. The Protovic planets, it seemed, were mostly lifeless ones. Barren rocks with breathable atmosphere into which they burrowed underground to build more than half of their infrastructure.
So would the Clans be fighting underground or on the surface? He wasn’t sure of that, hell, he couldn’t be sure of anything at this point, but if he didn’t start running the data through his head he’d go nuts imagining things.
Halfway through his research he suddenly remembered that he needed to shoot off a message to Julie, Raven, and Styk, especially if this was the last time he got to talk with them for a few years. Messages could travel via jumpship, he knew, but if they were traveling into another race’s territory, odds were there wasn’t going to be a lot of back and forth comms, meaning any message sent might take months, if not a year to make it from origin to destination.
All three commandos were current in mainline units. Julie was on Mars, Raven on Ganymede, and Styk on Titan. All were progressing through the trials like Rio was, but so far none of them had seen real combat. They were assigned to defensive/training units that were a mix of veterans and rookies kept here to safeguard Sol along with a few elite units. The rest were out system, either defending Star Force territory or engaging the enemy on one of the two fronts.
It seemed odd that he was going to see action before them, for their levels were all above his. He was a level 9 commando now, with Julie a 14, Styk a 15, and Raven a 17. If they weren’t ready to fight, then how could he be?
Different units, different situations, he figured. He was in a Clan, after all, and the Clans had a reputation for being a bit more reckless than the mainline units. But if an Archon had specifically requested him, then that was good enough for Rio. He just wished the others could be out there fighting alongside him.
But he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to gloat a little, so he got about the business of recording a vid message for the three of them and sent copies out to each. With luck they might respond before he left the system. If not, then so be it. This was the life of a commando…they went where they were needed and when they were needed, and even though he didn’t fully understand it, Clan Metal Gear needed him out on the frontier fighting an altogether new set of aliens.
Still grinning from ear to ear, he got the transfer order while he was researching the other races in Zeta Region, confirming what Durango had told him. As of now he was on leave until his designated report date arrived, with instructions on where to go included. Until then, a small side note said, it was best if he transitioned over to a full training routine, for that’s what he would be operating under once onboard the jumpship.
Rio knew what that meant, and with a few hours still left in the day he exited his quarters and headed for the track to get a couple of extra miles in, for there was going to be a lot of running, sparring, and agility workouts in his future, and he needed to adjust his stamina accordingly away from the ‘easy’ challenge routine that didn’t require as much of his daily energy.
A few days of long workouts and some extra ambrosia doses and he would be fine, but he was going to play it safe and take the note’s advice. This was the moment he’d been waiting for, and he was going to make every effort he could to overcome his low ranking and prove himself worthy once again.
This time, though, the firefights were going to be real…and very unforgiving.
9
February 21, 2465
Krichjan System (Zeta Region)
Eshwan
Kip-022 stood onboard his flagship Tassadar as it decelerated against the Protovic planet Eshwan, getting telaris sensor feeds enroute that detailed the position of the ships in orbit before the Warship-class jumpship had a chance to accidentally bump into them. The computer detected several within proximity along their jumpline, but none in direct blockage. Still, it queried the pilot who made a quick change to their approach, using other gravity wells in the system to steer the warship a bit lower than planet center to give them a wider berth.
Simultaneously that information was transmitted back to the following jumpships via telaris comms, giving them a very brief heads up and allowing them to make the course corrections as well. When the Tassadar finally stopped its massive momentum coming off the system’s central star, it had a good look at the blue/brown planet and all the Protovic ships in orbit on the near side, but nothing from behind…until two other Clan Protoss warships jumped in on different jumplines, forming a rough triangle that, with their current altitude over the planet, allowed them to communicate via line of sight and produce a combined map of the planet’s surface and orbit in a matter of seconds.
Kip saw that map pop up in front of his command chair, with a scattering of dots coming in behind the Tassadar that made up the rest of his assault fleet. They were making staggered jumps, ensuring that none of the massive jumpships ran into each other upon deceleration, so it was going to take several minutes for them all to arrive.
Fortunately it looked like the Protovic had reclaimed orbit from the Skarrons, for none of their ships were visible…though he couldn’t say that about the rest of the system. Even with the telaris sensors, which were 3 times as fast as lightspeed, it would take minutes to get feedback from the other planets, and given the range only very large targets would show up, meaning the enemy could still be hiding out there and they might not know it until they dropped in on the newly arrived reinforcements.
But since the Protovic fleet was here, there was an easy way to find out.
Kip hit a button on his command chair linked to a preprogrammed comm channel and spoke in the trade language.
“This is Kip-022, commander of the Star Force fleet arriving in planetary orbit. Per your request we are here to assist with the defensive effort against the Skarron incursion. What is the current status of the system?” he asked as the sensors began mapping out grounded troops on the planetary holo that was becoming more complex by the second as his crews started pulling tighter sensor scans.
A hologram of a seated Protovic superimposed in front of the planetary diagram, mimicking Kip’s posture, save for the fact that the alien wore his full body suit, making Kip unable to see so much as an inch of skin.
“Sarnor Tel’nash’gi,” he identified himself, using their fleet commander title. “I am surprised to see you here, but most welcome that you have come. We had thought the Alliance had abandoned us.”
“I don’t know about the Alliance, but I have a small fleet with ground troops ready to assist,” Kip said as the Star Force warship count passed 30 and continued to rise as more arrived at the planet. “The last report I received said this planet had been overrun?”
“Not entirely, though we had lost control of orbit. The fleet you see now is mostly comprised of reinforcements we pulled back in from Calavari territory, which we used to drive off the Skarrons, but as far as we can tell they haven’t left the system. We have a few monitoring stations around the star, and they haven’t been seen jumping out.”
“How many?”
“50 or 60 ships remain, with two juggernauts amongst them.”
Kip frowned. “I’m unfamiliar with that vessel.”
The Protovic motioned to someone off holo. “I’m sending you all the intel we have on the Skarrons. If you have anything to add please do, our knowledge of them is limited. They’ve never ventured this far out from the core before…at least not that I’m aware of.”
“Thank you. We have some knowledge of them, but have never come into direct contact. Our most coreward territory has a decent boundary zone, and so far they’ve not come too close.”
“I would warn you to be wary. They are thirsty for conquest,” the Protovic fleet commander said as the information came through, with the Tassadar’s crew immediately sending it to Kip’s command chair. With the telekinetic touch of a button he brought up a secondary hologram beside the Protovic and glanced at the files, with the warship classes having been tagged by his crew a moment ago.
“Did you engage the juggernauts?” Kip asked, highlighting the largest ship they had. It looked like an old school Star Force command ship, donut shaped, except that this donut had been stomped on repeatedly, with the hull broken and peeled up in numerous spots with extra pylons added, looking somewhat familiar to the Skarrons themselves with their gangly arms.
The Protovic nodded. “Yes, and destroyed one. They are slow, but are armed with long range weapons. One has to get in close, where their point defenses are weak, and slug it out with them…which their escort ships prevented the defending fleet from doing. My fleet was better equipped, and once we exploited their weakness the other two retreated.”
“Have you tried to hunt them down?”
“My priority has been to safeguard our three inhabited worlds…this planet, its moon, and the fourth planet in the system where I have a fifth of my fleet on patrol. If they engage them there we should be able to reposition in time to intercept them, but I don’t have enough ships to stand guard and hunt them down simultaneously. Also, I have no idea of knowing if or when they might receive reinforcements.”
“We have some experience with hunting down ships. Do you mind if I have a try at it?”
The Protovic nodded gratefully. “Please do, but it’s the situation on Eshwan that is our primary concern. The Skarrons had already landed their armies by the time I arrived, and our ground defense has been less than adequate. They’ve taken a third of the planet and are pushing for more. Are you able to assist on the ground as well?”
“Are they only on Eshwan?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll land my troops then go hunting for their fleet. Can you give me a planetary map with priorities highlighted. If they’re getting close to something they shouldn’t be we’ll hit them there, otherwise I’ll land in their backwater and start causing trouble.”
“I will provide a map, but our primary problem is with their walkers. They have several varieties of enormous size, greater even than those of the Nestafar, that our troops are having difficulty stopping. They’re quite frankly walking straight through our defense lines. They’re slow and heavily armored, almost to the point of immobility…but they have significant anti-air defenses.”
“Are your warships capable of atmospheric combat?”
The Protovic shook his head. “Capable yes, but not designed for it. I already tried that tactic, and nearly lost a corvette. They have grapple technology, anti-grav in nature, I believe, and will yank any large targets out of the sky. My ship hit ground before it was able to flee, but only after our Valeries took out several tethers, allowing it to escape. I’ve never seen anything like this weapon before.”
“We’ve heard rumors, and we’ve brought along some specialty equipment to deal with their walkers. We also have orbital bombardment capability if we can catch them in the open.”
“So I’ve heard. My own attempts to do so have failed, though we use guided missiles. You use unguided mass?”
“Well aimed mass, yes. And we’ve had a lot of practice with it.”
“What’s your accuracy range?”
“I can safely land a slug within a radius of 2 kilometers, and probably within 200 meters,” Kip said, using the trade language conversions.
“Which is only good if we can catch them out in the open, en mass,” the Protovic said with obvious disappointment. “You can’t pinpoint target troops within cities.”
“No. It’s designed for large, shielded targets mostly.”
“The Skarrons are using none. They’ve established no bases, and are continuously on the move.”
“Supply lines?”
“Convoys that follow the troops. We’ve tried to get at them, but they’re well-guarded. The Skarrons dropped an enormous amount of troops and supplies on planet. With what they’re also capturing from us, we don’t have much hope of waiting them out.”
“Have they been resupplied yet?”
“Twice. The second time only a single ship got through. That was four months ago.”
“What are their primary targets?”
“They appear to have none. They’re wiping our population out region by region. We’re evacuating what we can, but we estimate over 2 billion have already been killed.”
Kip closed his eyes and sighed. This was a full planetary assault, and he didn’t have nearly enough troops to fight it back on their own, so the best he could hope for was to do some damage, maybe take out some key Skarron units that would help the Protovic lines hold, or at least delay their collapse. In orbit was another story, and with the combined Star Force/Protovic fleet they had a good chance of keeping any additional Skarron reinforcements from landing…but there was no way of knowing how many more Skarron ships were enroute.
That meant this was going to get interesting, and he was going to have to play it by ear.
“Send me all the planetary data you think relevant. I’ll have troops on the ground within a few hours.”
“You have transport ships in addition to your warships?”
“We do.”
“You may leave them in our care, if you wish, while you pursue the enemy. My fleet has done little but sit in place since the first battle.”
“Thank you.”
“No, it is I who thank you. I’ve been having to watch as the planet under my care is slowly being conquered by the enemy. I don’t know if your troops will turn the tide, but at least now we have a bit of hope to work with.”
“Let’s get to work then…and you’re welcome.”
This is it, Rio thought as he boarded one of the Dragon-class dropships and squeezed into the passenger hold along with hundreds of other Metal Gear commandos, Knights, and Archons. He wore his full armor, appropriately colored camo green, as did the others. On his back he wore a rack, no pack, with a lachar sniper rifle, plasma rifle, and a pair of pistols, one plasma, one stinger. At the bottom of the rack was a small spare ammo compartment, but other than that he was left free to move without the weight of additional supplies.
Very few of them were seated, with most of the Clan troops standing to get as many inside as possible. More were back in the cargo section between the supplies. Should the dropship get hit by enemy fire they’d lose a lot of people when it went down…or at least if it went down and its inertial dampeners failed. If they held up there was a chance they’d survive impact…
No, he had to stop thinking like this. Star Force wouldn’t pack them in so tight knowing that they would be an easy target. The reverse, rather, and the tight fit meant they were confident they were going to get to ground. So until that happened he just needed to wait and watch.
The trip down to the planet was boring beyond words. He couldn’t feel the inertial swings of the dropship leaving the jumpship bay, nor could he watch it on vid screens, packed as they were, so he just stared at the back of the helmet in front of him and the pair of weapons bracketing it until he finally got the go order through his comm.
“We’re on the ground. Commence with deployment…and watch your step, it’s a mess out there.”
Adrenaline spiked through Rio’s body, but he held still, for there were too many people packed in around him for them all to leave at once. When the crowd thinned he followed the others out a side door and down an extendable staircase to the ground…that was strewn with debris.
Forcing himself not to stop and gawk, he continued down the line looking out over the devastation that had once been a Protovic city. Not a building remained standing, only pieces were visible, strewn here and there, as if a monster tornado had come through and ripped everything to shreds…along with delivering plasma burns.
A waypoint beacon pulsed on his battlemap, with Rio following it after he got down the stairs and off the dropship. He and several other commandos milled about in a spot between dozens of dropships that set down in a giant double line, staggered to find available landing spots. Out of them, Rio watched mechs walk forward and trek off into the city remains, pushing out to establish a perimeter while more dropships continued to come down.
Soon cargo haulers, compact little vehicles with powerful anti-grav engines and grapples, began unloading giant metallic cubes and setting them into clearings that bulldozers began to expand upon. Rio knew those were the building blocks for a prefab firebase, and watched as the first of them was activated.
It broke down into pieces, like a giant transformer, and flattened out into a floor and wall segment many times wider than the cube had originally been, forming an L-shaped piece that another cube was sat down next to. It was briefly attached at the floor, then it too transformed and added to the wall, making another 50 meters or so of the barrier and a large section of floor that was extra thick, for it contained support equipment.
One by one more cubes were added, both to the sides and the floor, extending it inward while creating various buildings, some of which required a second cube to be set on top by the cargo haulers. Bit by bit an impromptu base was established, with Rio and his fellow commando group waiting for orders until the last cube transformed and locked into place, then they got a waypoint at one of the four gates, indicating that they needed to move.
Rio followed in a two man wide line as they jogged up to the entrance, getting there just in time to see the doors grind open and the bubble shield activate over top. It dropped to the ground before them, then the portion over the doors disappeared, allowing them access. They ran inside to another waypoint, whereupon they received their orders…this time through a text message that appeared on the HUD of Rio’s helmet.
He split off from the others, moving to a position on the wall that had a lookout post with an enclosed canopy. His orders said to take that position and stand guard, watching the surrounding area…which had an awful lot of cover for bad guys to hide in, not to mention any underground structures.
Rio walked inside, with the wall doubling as a narrow walkway that shielded him from view from the waist down, and took a seat on a stool-like bench and started to visually scan the area behind a second shield that doubled as a window. He experimentally put his hand through, feeling the shield crackle around his armored glove. It was a combination energy/physical shield, with the physical aspect set to only repel fast moving objects.
The bubble shield that lay some 30 meters further out was the hard variety, and no weaponsfire from Rio was going to get through it. That said, the generator wasn’t overly strong, so the bubble would go down after a decent amount of pounding, after which it’d be up to him and the other defenders to hold off the enemy from the supplies that the base was being loaded up with…not to mention the restrooms, shower facilities, bunks, and cafeterias that were inside, none of which you wanted to be without for long in the field.
Combat teams would be cycling back here from missions, meaning this was a proximal firebase. If/when the battle lines were moved forward it could be broken back down into cubes and repositioned, making Rio wonder just how close they were to the fighting. There were no enemy fighters visible, but maybe that had to do with the squadrons of skeets protecting the dropships as they continued to come down in an unending stream of reinforcements.
Rio pulled off his sniper rifle and poked it through his lookout post’s shield, with the protective energy reforming around the barrel. He used the zoom and his vantage point up high to scan the area in the direction he saw some of the mechs moving. A lot of the view was broken building, but several long gaps gave him miles worth of view, and in one of those breaks he saw additional mechs engaged with some type of enemy.
Rio blinked, realizing that they must have been set down in another group, and his was here merely as supply support. That was fine by him, he was happy to help in any way, but he wondered where exactly the enemy was and why he couldn’t see any fighters in the sky.
Then his scope caught a bit of motion in closer, and he adjusted the zoom back to the ruins around the base where he caught the motion again, seeing a waving hand in the building debris more than half a mile away. He sighted in on it, seeing a Human-like figure, but one with fluorescent skin that shown a dull green/purple.
Feathering the barrel every so carefully he zoomed in again and got a decent look at the person’s face, seeing what looked like burn marks on the left half, but he confirmed that it had a head, two arms, and a torso that appeared to fit inside the pictures he’d seen of Protovic armor.
“Nemmal, comm on,” he said, using the voice commands so he could keep both hands on the rifle and keep his eye on the individual, who was continuing to wave furiously. Once the comm activated he used eye line commands and blinks to highlight a direct frequency to the commando tagged as the base commander.
“I have contact with what I think is a Protovic native. He’s wearing no armor and waving at us from the rubble.”
“Where?”
In response, Rio synced his rifle’s scope to his HUD and laid down a waypoint on the battlemap.
10
The Protovic survivor and four others found nearby were brought into the Star Force base and quickly interrogated. Fortunately some of the commandos could speak the trade language, for Rio knew only 50 or so words, which he didn’t deem sufficient to make first contact with an alien. He stayed at his post, but kept glancing back inside at the Protovic, for they were the first non-Humans he had ever seen.
They wore clothing that appeared metallic, but by the way it moved he figured it was just shiny cloth. It had holes in it, on each of the five they had brought in through the gate, two of which were still outdoors within the courtyard created by the four base walls, while the other three had been taken inside one of the buildings which Rio knew to be a medical station. The two outside were Human height, but aside from their glowing flesh their eyes stood out, even at a distance. They literally burned neon purple, making their allies look altogether freaky.
He didn’t let his attention linger on them for long, for he had a perimeter to watch. There were other commandos on the wall at various points, some behind heavy weapons batteries, and all were entrusted to safeguard this tiny bit of Star Force territory on the planet. Already one mechwarrior had returned…missing her mech. She’d returned on foot and taken shelter inside, looking overly haggard. Rio didn’t have a line of sight on where the fighting was taking place at present, but every now and then he’d see a bit of it as weaponsfire passed through the gaps in the rubble.
After a couple of hours another commando came up and relieved him, with Rio leaving his sniper rifle in the lookout post for the other to use, seeing that he carried none. With his other weapons locked onto his back rack he sat down on the inner ledge of the wall and pivoted his butt around, dropping off until he caught his hands and hung on the inside for a moment to kill his momentum, then he let go and dropped several meters to the ground.
His feet hit and he absorbed the impact as he’d done in training hundreds, if not thousands of times before. Normally he would have had to roll out of it to bleed the last bit of compression off, but the gravity here was a bit below normal, allowing him to stick the landing and walk it off into the building cluster, with the ‘ground’ he was striding across being a synthetic compound designed to give slightly, but able to support a mech’s weight without cracking.
There was a wide open area next to the wall, well wide enough for a mech to walk through, then there were the buildings mounted on top of the ‘ground’ that held numerous support lines…power, sewage, water, comm…not to mention the plasma that fed the corner turrets, which was produced in a generator in the interior, allowing the turrets to pivot about more freely without all that mass weighing them down.
When Rio crossed into the pedestrian walkways in between the single and two story buildings he caught a glimpse of the Protovic pair as they entered a doorway ahead of him. His eyes weren’t failing him before…their skin was actually glowing, visible even in the daylight.
He walked by the building they’d entered, throwing a glance inside as he passed, then he headed for the barracks, only to get stopped on the way there by another camo green armored soldier.
“Rio, you up for some action?” Dravic asked.
“Always,” he answered the level 23 commando.
“We’ve spotted some skirmishers in the rubble. I’m making a running patrol through some of the areas the spotters can’t see. Mission is to kill and/or flush them out, as well as recon the area to see how many are out there. Our Protovic friends seem to think they were sent to hunt them down, not us.”
“We going underground?”
Dravic shook his head. “Not worth the effort. If they’re down there, and come up, then they’re our problem.”
“What about the shield?”
“It’ll be raised enough to give the wall guards firing lines.”
“How many of us?”
“Just you and me…if you can keep up?”
Rio pulled his plasma rifle off his back. “Lead on.”
Dravic didn’t waste any more time talking and took off at a jog through the buildings, then accelerated up into a decent run when they hit the exposed ring just inside the wall. Rio stayed with him easy enough, knowing the tricky part was going to be navigating the debris…but if he was only following it shouldn’t be a problem, even in armor, because there weren’t going to be any long clearings to get up to top speed in.
The double doors in the south wall ground open partway, just enough for the pair to slip out, then they closed again as the commandos ran single file out and over the mound of dirt/debris that the dozers had pushed out to clear the base plain. Once over that Rio followed the more experienced commando out and down behind a section of round building that had once been a tower, crossing under the top half that was laying across their path, leaving a small triangular opening for them to pass through.
Almost immediately after crossing under, Rio saw Dravic fire off a quick shot, downing a target that the pair then ran after. They hesitated only slightly as they passed it, confirming that the small alien was dead, with a plasma burn on its rounded chest. It had a flat head that made it look like it was wearing a decorative halo, with four eyes spread across it on the front half, giving it considerable lateral vision.
Two arms and two legs made it a biped, but more than that Rio didn’t have time to learn. The pair moved on for another five seconds before two more of them came into view, then bolted…with the second one firing a tiny spec of white plasma back at Dravic that was absorbed by his armor’s shields.
The little things moved fast, and Dravic picked up his pace into full pursuit mode, with Rio struggling just to keep up. He had the advantage of only having to match the other’s steps rather than choose them, so he managed to stay within two meters of his partner as they chased the pair of aliens further south before they suddenly turned to the east.
Dravic winged one, with it limping behind enough that he was able to finish it with another pair of shots on the run. Rio jumped over its corpse as they kept after the other, then a few steps later Dravic was covered in little white flashes as the two of them ran into an ambush. On reflex both commandos went evasive, with them parting ways. Rio went right and Dravic went left, with both of them staying on the run and flanking around the dozen or so aliens trying to line up a decent shot that didn’t involve taking a lot of hits to their shields…which weren’t all that strong to begin with.
Rio got there first and pumped two blue streaks into the closest one, realizing after the fact that one would have been enough to take it down. They were wearing clothing, not armor, and the plasma burned deep into their small bodies, knocking them out of commission rather easily.
The others peppered him with plasma as he ducked behind cover, then Dravic came out the other side and hit them from behind, killing two before he ducked out of sight behind a broken wall segment.
Rio came back out and shot another, then charged forward, accepting several shots to his shields as he closed range and got inside the small crater and kicked one of the aliens back into another pair, bowling them down from the melee as he pumped out plasma shots to the others still standing, with Dravic joining him a moment later.
Rio’s shields went down and he took three plasma hits to his armor before the aliens were all killed. He inspected the damage, finding the melty spots being superficial only. Their plasma pistols didn’t carry a lot of damage…unless you were caught outside your armor, in which case they’d be plenty lethal.
Dravic raised a warning finger after putting an extra shot into one of the bodies that he felt wasn’t completely out of the fight yet.
“Patience,” he counseled. “Don’t let your shields be taken down unless absolutely necessary. You don’t know how long you’ll have to make do with that set of armor before you can get a replacement, and even though those are small marks, they add up over time.”
“Noted,” Rio said, realizing his mistake.
“Come on. If there are more pockets it’ll be run and gun. Let the snipers eat them up.”
“Go,” Rio agreed, dropping in behind the commando as they made their way up the east side, coming across several individuals and killing about half of them. The others either fled or chased after them, and Rio could hear the occasional lachar blast behind him as the aliens crossed into the base’s firing lines.
He didn’t look back to see if they were hit or not, for that wasn’t his role here and it would slow him down. They were meant to flush them out, which meant eyes forward at all times.
The pair hit another pocket on the north side, this one larger than the last, and it seemed that the aliens were slowly gathering around the base, possibly to assault it, or maybe just being attracted to the action. If they were out here to exterminate surviving Protovic, then maybe they didn’t have an overall plan, in which case it was good that they were getting to them first and forcing the issue.
Plus, the more of them they killed, the more Protovic might survive.
Rio got more than a dozen kills by the time they finished their long zigzaggy circle around the base, coming back up to the south entrance and entering the same way they had come out…through a small slit in the doors, but this time the shields remained partially down, or rather ‘up.’ They were deployed over top of the base, but didn’t extend all the way to the ground, ending just above the wall so the snipers could continue taking out targets of opportunity.
“Hold up,” Dravic said once they were inside, proceeding to walk around Rio inspecting his armor. “Not too bad. Do you have full shield strength? One of the gashes is close to an emitter.”
Rio checked his HUD. “I’m reading full power, and all emitters are green.”
Dravic nodded. “Get to the maintenance building and have a tech put some patches on those holes while we’ve got the chance. And other than being a little bold, you did well keeping up. This was your first live firefight?”
“Yeah it was,” Rio admitted.
“Live and learn, commando,” he said, punching the center of Rio’s chest with the side of his fist, which bounced off the active shield matrix.
“One thing,” Rio asked as the other started to walk away. “What do we call those things?”
“They’re called Aronsic.”
“No nickname?”
“This is the first time Star Force has engaged them. You have a suggestion?”
“Well, they kind of remind me of Lord of the Rings.”
Dravic stared at him for a moment. “Hobbits?”
“Yeah…that’s what I was thinking, anyway.”
“Makes sense. No guarantee it’ll stick though,” he said, getting on his comm. “How many more Hobbits have we got roaming around?”
“Several,” one of the wall guards answered on the communal comm that Rio and the others could listen in to. “It looks like they’ve been spread out across or beneath the debris and are starting to converge on the base. No telling how many are out there…and I like the name, by the way.”
“Rio’s idea. If they start accumulating too much, let me know and we’ll make another shakeout run.”
“Copy.”
Dravic pointed at Rio, then at a particular building. “Get going. I want you ready for the next go around.”
Rio smiled inside his helmet, then jogged off towards the maintenance building.
16 kilometers to the northwest Kip watched a mech engagement ongoing via the Tassadar’s bridge hologram in delay as some of the jumpships in orbit around Eshwan transmitted the battlemap data across the system to the trailblazer’s flagship as it was stationed in a null orbit far from any planet or moon, waiting for a target to ambush as other warships were poking around the system trying to find the Skarron fleet. He watched as the Metal Gear neos, madcats, and thors fought with three plump, six-legged walkers, seeing that the enemy truly wasn’t going down very fast at all.
But at the same time they weren’t giving much return fire. Already an analysis of the battle data from every engagement was being processed by the command crews on the warships, with a weapon map and strength assessment for what they were tagging as a Type 4 walker showing on a side hologram. The ungainly thing had a fat rear end, almost like a giant tick, that was covered in small plasma ports…but with overlapping fire they were able to rack up considerable damage, and combined with the thick hull armor the Type 4 was taking three of their mechs to take down.
But going down it was. There were two stars of Metal Gears, 10 mechs in all, taking on the three Skarron Type 4s, each of which stood twice as tall as the neos when it was laying on the ground, and rising higher when its legs engaged and lifted its bulk up. The front end was tapered, which Kip recognized as a way to get the lateral plasma ports, which he guessed were all fed by a single internal generator, to align into a narrow forward arc where they could aim and fire on the same target simultaneously, similar to the way Star Force’s original battleship design allowed, based off the Star Destroyer model.
The Metal Gears recognized it too, because they were using their superior mobility to keep out of that arc and hit it from the flanks, chewing up a couple of spots on the armor in an attempt to eventually break all the way through. Missiles appeared to have greater effect on the armor, far more so than they should have versus the plasma cannons…which told him that these things had been designed to be resistant to plasma, which almost every race used in some fashion. It was the most common weapon, coming in many designs, so it was understandable that the Skarrons had predicated their defense against it.
Trouble was, missiles weren’t that easy to come by, meaning engaging these things was going to eat up a lot of ammo unless they could find another way to do it. Unfortunately the mechs currently engaged didn’t have maulers. He guessed those would have more effect, but he was going to have to wait to see how that played out.
Suddenly a projectile shot out from one of the Skarron walkers, followed by a tether that connected it to a madcat’s leg. Kip zoomed in on the hologram, seeing a claw grip wrapping around the mech leg just before the Skarron pulled and knocked the Metal Gear mech off balance. It tipped over and fell onto its port missile box, crunching in the side as the Type 4, unbelievably, reeled in the mech like it was a fish on the end of a line.
Kip’s eyes went wide even as a Neo came in and shot the tether twice with both its arm-mounted plasma cannons, severing the connection and allowing the madcat to start to get back up on its feet. The Neo walked over and used its hands to pry the claw off the leg, breaking one of tines in the process, with Kip still not believing that the Skarron walker had enough mass/torque to yank a madcat off its feet…meaning that that thing was far heavier and stronger than it looked.
And it was the second smallest of the 5 types the enemy had in the field. His forces had been ordered to engage the smaller ones on the flanks of the enemy lines and leave the bigger ones for later, hopefully once he got back from hunting down the enemy fleet. He had to be present to do that, for tracking down and successfully engaging an enemy insystem when they didn’t want to be found was next to impossible. Paul and the other naval experts had been continually experimenting and upgrading their equipment to make such things easier, but Kip knew this was going to require a trailblazer’s touch…but so would the major ground combat, meaning he needed to be in two places at once.
He typed out an order to send to the Metal Gears, indicating that they shouldn’t engage the enemy mechs with less than a star against each, and to wait to engage the Type 3s and larger until he returned. Right now the Protoss mechs weren’t even to their engagement points, for they were locking down various facilities in the line of the enemy advance and preparing to make a stand to delay the Skarrons and buy time for evacuation convoys moving the locals out.
That put both Clans on opposite sides of the enemy, with the intention being to force them to split their forces. If they didn’t one Clan was going to have an opening to exploit, and right now it seemed the Skarrons were more eager to go after the Metal Gears, something that he needed to attend to right now.
He zoomed out to the main battlemap and across to the Protoss landing zones, picking one that was already well established and ordering a series of raids forward into Skarron territory…but harassment only. Kip wanted to get their attention and take down a few of their walkers, but not get into a full-on engagement. Fortunately their ground troops were slow as hell, and would give the Clans the time they needed to maneuver the coming assaults into positions of their choosing.
“Kip, we have contact,” the Tassadar’s Captain said, interrupting his ground campaign holo and sending it off to the side as a naval system map replaced it. “Five ships in low orbit around the 8th planet’s innermost moon.”
“Have they detected our presence?”
“If they have they aren’t moving yet.”
Kip nodded, tagging several of his own warships on the map, wanting those to converge on the target along with the Tassadar at the same moment. “Let’s go say hi.”
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