Alien Empire

by Anthony Gillis

  “Wimier? The former Chief of Staff? Neem, you are about five steps ahead of me…”

  “Sorry. Hey, just wait for the call from Sellis, or call him. I think he’s got a job for you.”

  “Neem, I’m not even in the service anymore. Slow down…”

  An alert on his phone showed another call was coming in.

  “Speaking of Sellis! Neem, I’ve got to go.”

  26

  A gleaming shuttle flew over dusty hills dotted with low trees, and here and there, herds of animals. Huts of mud brick clustered near a brown stream. Suddenly, from a hundred hidden positions, came crude shoulder-fired rockets. The Elder pilot reacted coolly and quickly, banked her craft and angled skyward. She activated shields.

  There were too many. The shields flickered and went out. The shuttle disappeared in a blaze of fireballs.

  ///

  Half a continent away, a delegation of Elders stood before his Supreme Majesty, King Chax Varcha of Uxmaz. The orange and gold walls of the grand royal audience chamber formed a backdrop for the King’s multi-tiered throne, paneled in onyx. Royal guards in orange stood by on either side, antique ceremonial muskets at their sides.

  “Your Majesty” said an Elder with a pale face and red hair “I am Consular Diplomat Onyango. Thank you for inviting us today. We have gifts for you, and a treaty to sign…”

  “I think I’ll keep the gifts and forget the treaty,” interrupted the King.

  “Your Majesty?”

  “You speak passable Uxmazi, Diplomat,” said the King, “You’ll have to teach me your language, from your prison cell.”

  As he spoke, Royal Guards raised their muskets at the unarmed Elders. Onyango calmly surveyed them, stood his ground, and clasped his hands behind his back.

  ///

  On a rugged plateau, a small group of Elders were at work in a bare brick room. A cold wind howled outside. One of their number was standing guard in body armor, with a magnetic rail rifle. The others were setting up computers, monitoring equipment, and a transmission dish. There was a noise just outside the weathered wooden door.

  The Elder guard in armor moved smoothly to a firing position. The door came kicking in. Armed Grounders in a motley variety of heavy cold-weather clothes and camouflage charged through. The guard dropped two of them in under a second; then the Grounders sprayed the room with automatic fire.

  ///

  Near the border of Bacchara, a pair of lightly armed Elder shuttles were flying at high altitude.

  “Flight Pilot Jensen, this is Flight Pilot Tsai.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  “I’m picking up communication from Baccharan military aircraft, coordinates four zero three nine nine.”

  “That is outside Baccharan airspace. Recommend we request authorization to abort observation mission and return to Vigilant.”

  “Agreed.”

  “There is a second group of aircraft on course that suggests they intend to intercept.”

  “Prepare to engage. Up shields.”

  Fifteen Baccharan fighters, first-rate southern and Tadine designs, closed on the Elder shuttles. The dogfight was short and sharp. Seven fighters went down, but with them went the shuttles.

  ///

  In the beautiful Elder Consulate to the nation of Ishnepura, a multistory house that had once been the seat of an ancient noble family, Elder diplomats and scientists sat with Ishnepuran dignitaries together at a meal, each eating food of their own people. Vrit Anchaigan sat opposite from the Elder Consular Diplomat. He rose and spoke.

  “It has been a lovely meal with excellent conversation, for which I thank you. However, as for the remainder of the evening, I am afraid there has been a change of plan. No, you needn’t get up, the exits are being secured as I speak…”

  ///

  A group of Elder scientists were making their way up trail in a remote valley in the southern nation of Kaleknan. They were heading towards a group of ruined temples, still a half kilostep or so ahead. Their government-provided guide paused. He spoke in heavily accented Tadine.

  “If you will excuse, I must go ahead to secure permission. Back soon!”

  An aircraft could be heard some distance away.

  The wait was longer than expected. One of the Elders turned to the others with a thoughtful look, and began to pull out a communication device.

  There was a whistling sound overhead, coming fast.

  That section of the trail exploded.

  ///

  Army and police surrounded the Elder Consulate at the Capital of Tadine. Helicopters circled overhead, and tanks rumbled down the street. A Tadine officer was speaking into a microphone.

  “Elder Consular staff, this is General Danven of Army Central Division. Lay down any arms you may have, put your hands over your heads, and proceed to the street.”

  There were lights visible in the building. Shadows here and there though the windows suggested motion. However, there was no answer from inside.

  “Consular Diplomat Romandini, instruct your staff to stand down, put their hands on their heads and exit the building!”

  Danven turned to an officer at his side.

  “Any communications from them?”

  “Not to us sir, but our new contacts in Bacchara report plenty from the Consulate to the Elder ship.”

  “Slag. We’re going to have to go in after them. Stand by…”

  ///

  At Overwatch Air Base, near both the coast and the border of Jayesthir, a squadron of Tadine jet-assisted attack helicopters were lifting off. They flew out to sea for some kilosteps, then back around at a point where the coast curved inward, moving at their maximum speed.

  As they entered the airspace of Jayesthir, they were joined by a handful of Jayesthiri transport copters that were acting almost, but not quite, within the scope of their orders. Communications passed back and forth. Together, they headed inland, toward the international zone.

  ///

  In the Presidential office of Tadine, newly sworn President Tarec sat surrounded by staff and advisors. People and conversations flew back and forth in a swirl of noisy activity. Pre-dawn darkness loomed beyond the windows.

  “Say that again?” Tarec snapped.

  “General Danven refuses sir, he says he’s busy.”

  “Busy? I’m the President! Tell him…”

  “Sir,” cut in another staffer, “I have a report on the units sent to arrest Dren Wimier and the Council.”

  “Do they have them?”

  “No sir, the Capital police refused to enter the building. Then they turned around and drew their guns. Someone in the Army must have sent some tanks, because they arrived and blocked the road in.”

  “What about the Internal Peace Service troops?”

  “They had a standoff with the police. When the tanks got there they… fled sir.”

  “Fled! Where’s Karstens?”

  No one seemed to know.

  “Well FIND him!” hissed Tarec.

  A couple of staffers scurried off.

  “Sir, I’m getting reports of helicopters scrambling at Overwatch Air Base.”

  “I didn’t authorize that! Where are they headed?”

  “We don’t know sir. I’m trying to find out.”

  Tarec was in a cold fury. He looked around the room. There were fewer people than there had been just a few minutes earlier.

  “Where…?” he said to no one in particular.

  A staffer came racing back from Karstens’ office.

  “Sir! Sir! Chief of Staff Karstens is gone! His security safe is open and empty!”

  “HOW is it possible,” Tarec snapped, his voice rising, “that in the Capital building, in a place crammed with people, no one saw him leave, or at least no one noticed his absence sooner?”

  Actually, he himself noticed, the place was looking distinctly less crammed with people at the moment.

  “Sir! I’ve got a call on the line… I think it’s from Dren Wimier!”
<
br />   “WHAT?” Tarec’s face lost its icy cast and contorted in rage.

  “Sir, I think I’d better put it on speaker for you.”

  The voice on the other end of the line was unmistakable. It was definitely Wimier.

  “Good morning Tarec. Hear that rumbling? You might want to take a look outside…”

  ///

  At Vanguard Air Base, Air Colonel Varen climbed into the familiar cockpit of the most advanced fighter craft on Ground, the Multimodal Superiority Strike Aircraft, or as he preferred to call it, the Little Surprise. Air General Sellis stood below.

  “Air Colonel, I’m glad you were willing to come back on such short notice.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it, sir.”

  “Remember that, technically, you won’t be commissioned again until they sort things out in Capital well enough to know who is supposed to sign your commission.”

  Varen chuckled.

  Sellis watched him get settled in. “I think you’ll like the new add-ons we installed while you were gone, courtesy of Vhel’s confiscation of equipment during the nationalization of Combine Defense Technologies.”

  “I’ve been looking them over. You’ve got that right, sir!”

  “Your friend Neem said to tell you he was sorry you have to make do with his old scraps, and that when you see him again, he’ll get you, and I quote, the good stuff.”

  “I look forward to the day, sir.”

  “Good luck Air Colonel.”

  “Thank you sir,” said Varen, as the cockpit closed.

  ///

  On a huge public outdoor video screen, on the side of an urban building in Aiyara, very near the International Zone, a video had been hacked in, and was replaying over and over. Three scenes cycled in repetition. They differed in particulars, but each showed the same basic events. Strange looking beings on what were clearly other worlds, unarmed, facing heavily armed Elders.

  A crowd was gathering to watch the video.

  It showed Elder soldiers coolly gunning down bulbous things with long angular heads against a backdrop of pyramidal buildings. It showed Elder soldiers firing, with deadly accuracy, into a crowd of ferocious looking fanged and clawed beings. It showed Elder soldiers rounding up fleeing members of a race with pale loose skin and eyes that looked, to Grounders at least, very soulful. In the distant background was what those beings were fleeing from – Elder warships systematically destroying a city of silvery spires.

  The crowd swelled, grew angrier. There were yells, curses.

  “Murderers!”

  “Monsters!”

  “Aliens!”

  People milled around furiously. Some started grabbing improvised weapons. Others were making calls. Calls were coming back in. Someone turned up with a ground truck loaded with guns. Someone else said other copies of the video were spreading all over the nets.

  The crowd continued to grow.

  Things started getting broken.

  27

  It was night. The International Zone was on fire. Armed civilians in mobs from three southern nations were burning and smashing. The Zone security forces, comprised of detachments from nearly every nation, but not large in number, had fled or surrendered.

  Rioters surrounded the Elder embassy, firing shots and hurling homemade bombs over the perimeter wall. Elder security guards fired with lethal precision into the crowd, which only became more enraged. Vehicles were being brought up, as were improvised battering rams. The fence began to shake. Fighter jets soared overhead, ready for any arrival of Elder aerospace fighters. A flotilla of helicopters, carrying elite troops from Tadine and Jayesthir, roared at top speed toward the compound.

  Hidden panels opened in the pavement of the central courtyard of the Embassy. Previously secret antiaircraft batteries emerged. They launched swift silent missiles at the fighters, picking them out of the sky one by one. Railguns aimed perfectly at the helicopters, destroying the three in the lead before the others circled wide, keeping low and out of range, looking for safer landing places.

  In his room on the top floor of the embassy, overlooking it all, Ambassador Margaux stood in front of his chair of office, facing three Elder military officers standing in a line at attention. The loquacious manner he used in diplomatic presentations was gone. He was terse, measured. He turned to the officer on his right, a slender woman with long dark hair wearing a black and silver uniform, and spoke to her in Elder.

  “Intelligence Lieutenant Boutsaris, are the reports confirmed?”

  “Yes Your Excellency, all shuttles on the ground have been captured by the Grounders, except for the courier shuttle stationed here. Of those in the air, three proceeded here to attempt rescue, and were shot down by Grounder forces. Five others are either downed or confirmed missing. The remaining four are reported returned to the Vigilant or in space above the reach of known Grounder aircraft.”

  “Research Personnel on the Ground?”

  “Fourteen teams have reported still active and either hidden or evading pursuit, Your Excellency. Twenty-three last reported under attack by hostiles, the remainder unaccounted for.”

  “And the national Consulates?”

  “None still reporting, Your Excellency.”

  The sounds of gunfire outside were growing closer.

  He turned to the tall man in the center. “Flight Commander Nogai, status from the Vigilant?”

  “They have received our distress signal Your Excellency, and those of the others who had time. They are mobilizing a relief force to assist. The number of fighter craft that were replaced by personnel shuttles will reduce its effectiveness.”

  “Flight Commander, is it your opinion that the relief force will arrive in time to secure and evacuate this Embassy?”

  “No, Your Excellency.”

  He then looked to the man on the left, shorter but powerfully built. “Security Captain Farouk, your report?”

  “Your Excellency, the antiaircraft battery is successfully holding off the enemy air forces. Our guards are falling back from the perimeter in good order, but we don’t have much time… Your Excellency, we can evacuate you now.”

  Margaux looked at him impassively. “My staff, your guards, and you yourself do not have that option, Security Captain. That shuttle has room for only six besides a pilot. I have prepared a list of those six who are to be evacuated. Intelligence Lieutenant Boutsaris, you are among them. Locate the other five and direct them to the shuttle.”

  “Flight Commander Nogai, you will pilot the shuttle. It is a fast ship, and we will have the ground battery try to clear a way for you, but the enemy is numerous. I trust in your famous skill to get them through. Once there, convey my opinion to Warden Ship Captain Fitzgerald that he may want to conserve his forces for defense. Given the speed with which the Grounders have acted, we should not underestimate them again.”

  “I will do my duty, Your Excellency.”

  He turned again to Boutsaris. “Intelligence Lieutenant, as you know, our communications are now being intercepted. In this code disc are my final reports to the Galactic Central Presidium. Give them to Deputy Ambassador Hsien.”

  “Yes, Your Excellency.”

  Farouk spoke out of turn, a rare thing for an Elder military officer. The other two showed restrained surprise, but maintained their stances of attention. “Your Excellency, please, you must go. You are needed. You can coordinate the counterattack from the ship.”

  “Security Captain, compose yourself. I did not ask for further report from you. Warden Ship Captain Fitzgerald can better determine how his forces are to be engaged than can I. Consider it fortunate the rioters gave us an unintentional warning. Our staff and guards here will do their duty, as will I. While they work, I will see what I can do to buy us time. The Grounders may be willing to talk, though there is no reason for optimism. Nothing must fall into the hands of the enemy.”

  Boutsaris showed just the slightest trace of emotion on her face. Margaux turned to her.

  “Intelligence L
ieutenant, you have something to add?”

  “Your Excellency, we are fighting savages. You can see the burning buildings of their own cities from here. I… am concerned at what they might do to you.”

  The first wild shots were striking the side of the building. Margaux stood surveying the officers, his hands folded behind his back.

  “If they choose to behave as savages, I will have died in the cause of enlightenment. Officers, do your duty.”

  And with precise motions, as one, the Elder officers raised their right arms to their chests in salute, bowed their heads, and turned to leave the room.

  Margaux turned to the window of his office, bullets cracking against its reinforced surface, and watched the advancing mobs of Grounders.

  ///

  Elsewhere, Viris and Jat were sitting huddled over computers in a room full of many others doing the same. A call came in.

  “Karden! Ha! How goes the fight?” roared Jat, with a raucous off-key laugh.

  “Darex, are you still with Viris?”

  “Who else?”

  “Could you put the phone on speaker, please?”

  “Eh? Ok,” and Jat did so.

  “Viris, Darex, I’ve just gotten word that our attack on the Elder planetary Embassy did not go as planned.”

  The others groaned.

  “It is unfortunate the videos leaked out faster than we’d wanted. Mobs from Aiyara, Ishnepura, and Jayesthir fought their way through Zone security toward the Elder compound. It gave the Elders time to mobilize an antiaircraft battery they must have constructed in secret there. Our airborne forces had to land further away than expected, and the mobs got there first.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” said Viris.

  “But an Elder shuttle may have gotten loose with who knows what on it, and the Elders had time to destroy files, computers, and equipment. The rioters helped finish the job, not completely, but enough to cost us an immense amount of valuable information.”

  Now Viris cursed under her breath, and Jat over his.

  “There is more. It seems Ambassador Margaux tried to negotiate with them. When they fired at him instead, he organized a last ditch defense, some of the embassy staff went down shooting. The rioters dragged his body through the streets, then tied it to his ceremonial chair and set it on fire.”