All Enemies Foreign and Domestic
By Rodney L. Smith
Copyright 2013, Rodney L. Smith
Cover Photo Courtesy NASA/JPL-Caltech
http://www.jpl.nasa.gov/spaceimages/details.php?id=PIA01320
Book Four in the Kelly Blake Series
Other books in the series
Scout Force
First Command
Where The Stars Are Few And Far Between
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, or locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
As this book is being published on Mothers' Day it seems only fitting that I dedicate it to my mother and mother-in-law, Elsie and Zada. I love them both.
Chapter One
The K’Rang Deep Space Survey Ship S'Kauf approached a system with a yellow dwarf star at its center and a number of gas giant and rocky planets in orbit around it. The utilitarian looking, roughly cigar-shaped ship with stubby winglets housing various sensors had been in transit for over two months, with orders to find a system matching a set list of requirements and far away from the existing fifty K’Rang worlds. Fortune was with them as they traveled almost directly toward the galactic core and found a system meeting almost all the specifications on their first try.
Captain M’Taso, a medium–sized K’Rang Shadow Leader with leopard-like spots on her torso, and golden fur above and below, was ecstatic that her first planetary survey was going so well. She spent three days surveying the planet with her sensors suite and liked what she saw. There appeared to be no signs of civilization. No sentient life forms were detected and there were very few life forms of any kind. She mused that they could be living underground where her sensors could not penetrate, but surely there would be surface indications that their sensors could detect. She found nothing.
In accordance with K’Rang tradition, the discoverer of a planet had the planet named after them. With unusual fanfare for such a stoic race, she named it M’Taso’s Planet in an elaborate ceremony and recorded it in the planetary register. The whole crew growled in the K’Rang version of raucous applause.
Deep beneath the surface of the planet, however, a premier queen laid egg after egg, while her attendants saw to her every need. She had laid over 50,000 eggs since she burrowed her way down and prepared the birthing chamber three years before. Her offspring and their offspring numbered in the millions. She had been chosen for this world and sent forth as a single larval queen in a colony pod. Her lifelong destiny, coded into her DNA, was to give birth to as many children as possible. First to hatch were her worker attendants, which looked after her and the eggs and decided whether each egg would hatch into worker, soldier, drone or new queen. First priority was always to hatch workers, so the colony could be enlarged and improved. Most important was the requirement for more egg chambers as the queen became more productive.
The insectoids were the size of an Earth dog with eight legs, and a body divided into four segments. The head consisted of dual segmented antennae; strong pincers, a mouth and, triple compound eyes. The thorax held two pairs of the eight legs and the after thorax held the remaining two pairs. The abdomen contained organs and a stinger.
Insectoid colonies consisted of winged queens–the largest in size, winged drones–fertilized males, soldiers–larger workers with stronger pincers, and ordinary workers–the smallest insectoids. Once the colony had enough workers to maintain the food levels, defend their territory, and for maintaining the premier queen at maximum reproductive output, their biological imperative was to grow and expand. New queens hatched, swarmed and mated with fertile drones and went forth to form their own colonies, repeating the cycle, expanding until they became the dominant life form on the continent and, eventually, the entire planet. Once they established themselves as the dominant life form, a coding in the queens’ DNA became active. A percentage of sentient, intelligent, and fertile leader-queens hatched to take them to the next stage of colonization. This group of new queens moved out of the burrows, dug up the original colony pod from where the premier queen had it buried for safekeeping, learned from its data banks, and started communicating with their home civilization, a space-going civilization.
They had done this on over 100 habitable worlds on the inner side of this spiral arm of the galaxy, and now they were moving outward, driven by their genetic urge to expand. Their projected axis of advance went straight through K’Rang space.
Captain M’Taso knew none of this, for her sensors failed to highlight the dog-sized insectoids as a sentient life form. In fact, the insectoids were so far along in the colonization process that even if the K’Rang had discovered the main, subsequent and nascent colonies, they likely would have assigned no weight to them. It was into this knowledge void that she ordered the S’Kauf to land on the night side of the planet and conduct in-depth surveys of flora, fauna, and landforms at first light.
* * * * *
Former Shadow Force Commander (Baron) G’Rof, now thankfully just Baron G’Rof, felt the warm breeze blow through the sweetly aromatic B’Notil trees and evaporate the perspiration from his brow. He sat under the shelter’s awning in his remote hunting camp, watching the far off dust devils in the sunset’s orange light, and contemplated the day’s events. He and his party had bagged seven of the fearsome J’Kanga beasts and returned to find that Baronet L’Gulla, with his retinue of trollops and hangers on, had arrived. G’Rof never liked the tendency in some of the nobles to gather an entourage of sycophants and leeches looking for inroads to the nobility and their lifestyle. L’Gulla was just such a noble. He always had a pride of young and accessible females hanging off him. If he were an ordinary citizen of the Empire, none would give him a second glance.
Across the campsite, the younger members of the party sat around the main campfire, where they could be noisy and not bother those wishing to sleep. They tried to attract the young, impressionable females’ attention with tales of taking down the fierce creatures with but a saber and their wits. It was true that his nephews C’Fol and T’Por had faced the beasts with swords, but they lost their wits and Baron G’Rof had to save them. They had timidly attacked their chosen beasts, which the beaters had driven into a blind draw for the hunting party’s convenience. The shallow wounds enraged the beasts and caused them to turn on his nephews. It was only G’Rof’s expert knowledge of the beasts’ anatomy and their likely moves against his nephews that allowed the Baron to step in under the J’Kangas’ swiping claws and impale each beast’s heart before they seriously harmed his sisters’ sons.
His nephews were mauled slightly, giving a certain cachet to their stories of fighting the J’Kanga to the death. The Baron had told his nephews they could keep the carcasses as trophies with his blessing. After all, they had contributed a small part to cutting them down. Tomorrow would be different. They would be going after the smaller herd beast, the G’Wonta. They were fast and wily beasts and they would be taking them weaponless, using only stealth, strong legs, sharp fang, and hooked claw, the way their ancestors had. They would feast on raw and roasted G’Wonta tomorrow night. G’Rof had promised the cooks they could exercise their imaginations on the carcasses.
The baron was slowly working on his third glass of 100-year-old T’Pala, lost in his reveries of past hunts and visions of hunts yet to come, trying to hold back the demons that still haunted his mind from the battle of G’Durin, when Baronet L’Gulla walked up with one of his “ladies” for an audience. G’Rof wave
d them closer after L’Gulla haltingly stuttered his way through a formal, courtly request to enter his august presence.
G’Rof ignored L’Gulla’s fat, sweaty, obsequious presence and concentrated on the young female with him. She was long of limb, possessed an upright posture, and had the tortoise shell coloring that G’Rof preferred in his younger, more virile days. She looked down at him in his camp chair and his faux pas seeped through his T’Pala-induced mellow. He suddenly remembered his manners and jumped up. He was a little off balance from the effects of the T’Pala, but steadied himself on the back of the chair he offered her. He then sat back down in the only other chair, leaving L’Gulla to pull over a stool from the next tent.
L’Gulla tried his hand at the introduction again and told G’Rof that this vision of loveliness was T’Jana, daughter of the late Shadow Force Commander T’Kapo.
G’Rof reflected for a moment and said, “T’Kapo was a brave and resourceful shadow warrior. His battlecruiser was lost when multiple squadrons of the small Human attack craft breached the Grand Armada’s perimeter. We had been fighting for several hours and the Humans steadily ground us down. We were matching them ship for ship, but there were more of them, too many more of them. T’Kapo fought his ship brilliantly, holding off two full squadron attacks when an attack squadron exiting our formation to return to their carrier launched ten ship killer missiles at his battle cruiser. Defending against the frontal attack had expended his ready defensive missiles. Before he could reload, the ten Human missiles penetrated his defenses and the ship was lost. After the battle, I sent your mother my personal condolences. I wish I could have done more, but the Humans and their allies outnumbered us and with superior weaponry. It was all I could do to save the remnant of the fleet I did.”
L’Gulla, sensing he was a third wheel, got up and went to join the party at the main campfire. One of the females he’d brought was almost in heat and he didn’t want to miss the show. T’Jana got up from her chair and walked behind G’Rof. She gazed off towards the distant campfire, reached down and gently massaged his shoulders.
“I thank you for those kind words, Baron. I knew my father would do his duty to the empire. Knowing that my father died well is a comfort to me. Tell me, who comforts you, Baron?”
She boldly snatched his glass, saw his eyes flare briefly and just as quickly mellow, and she took a sip from his glass.
“I see you sitting here out under the stars all alone, drinking this very fine T’Pala, by the way. May I have some?”
She handed his glass back. G’Rof reached for a glass and poured her two claws worth and handed it to her. She sipped it, choked slightly and then downed the glass.
“May I have another?”
G’Rof frowned at the disrespect shown a fine T’Pala, but poured her another glass and said, “This is 100 years old. Take your time with it, like it is an old dear friend.”
T’Jana took the glass, stood up, and softly swayed to music playing at the main campfire. She looked over to the party and saw K’Lana dancing to a much more fevered rhythm. All eyes were on her, as the scent of her coming into heat caused tension, occasional shoving, and even fights to break out amongst the males.
T’Jana turned back to G’Rof and, with a slight slur to her voice, said, “This stuff is good. Where was I? Oh, yes, who comforts you? I’m sure the faces and voices of men lost in battle, like my father, must haunt you. Who softens that burden for you? Your wife died, what, ten years ago? Both your sons were lost at the Battle of G’Durin. Who is there to ease your troubles?”
She swayed to the music again, came around to the front of his chair, and eased into his lap. She tipped her glass to his lips. He took a sip and she nuzzled noses with him. She tipped her glass to his lips again and he finished the remainder of her glass. He noticed a faint bitter taste, but assigned it to the scent of the B’Notil trees.
She nuzzled him again and said, “I’m nowhere near in heat, but I can provide you with less frenzied passion, if you wish. I hate it when estrus drives me to mate with any male fast enough and strong enough to take me.”
G’Rof smiled a wistful smile and said, “I believe my days of howling after a frisky young female are behind me. My line is at an end anyway. With my sons’ death, I have no one but my nephews to pass my legacy to and I fear they are not worthy of it. Come, let us explore each other in a calmer, less hurried manner.”
G’Rof stood to escort T’Jana into his tent, but his legs refused to hold him up. He crashed to the ground, striking his head on a tent pole. He lay there quite conscious, but unable to move or even shout for his bodyguards, as four Shadow Commandos dressed all in black emerged from the shadows of his tent. They each grabbed an extremity and carried him off into the darkness as he drifted into unconsciousness.
Her part in this action finished, Shadow Warrior T’Jana walked over to the main campfire and plopped into the first lap she came to. It was G’Rof ‘s chief bodyguard G’Jiu. If he were not executed within the month, he would be a fortunate, but disgraced Shadow Warrior.
* * * * *
Chief of the Imperial General Staff and Land Forces Marshall (Baron) T’Kana, Hero of the Battle of C’Tenu, Guardian of the Empire, and Life Member of the Imperial Guard, paced the length of his conference room. His staff and major subordinate commanders sat patiently, awaiting the purpose of this hastily called meeting. The usual coughs and shuffling were noticeably missing this morning. Normally, the purpose and agenda were sent out a week before, to give the subordinate staffs time to prepare their commanders for whatever questions might come up during the meeting. This was not the case today, when the meeting was called with less than one day’s notice.
They were gathered in the Imperial Staff Headquarters on K’Rol, the military planet. K’Rol was the headquarters and garrison planet for all K’Rang ground forces, less the Imperial Guard Regiment. It housed two training combined units, five unified force headquarters, 25 shadow combined units, five shadow commando units, and various specialty and logistics units and sub-units. Above the planet were five space stations, each holding the ships of five combined unit troop transport task forces with transports, escorts, and support ships. Miraculously, the Humans had never found K’Rol or its stations during the war. Good operational security and a location far off the normal trade routes and away from other military installations left them unscathed and combat ready, but they had never been called into the fight, not even to defend the home world. This enraged T’Kana – over 150,000 warriors sworn to defend the empire to the death, and they were not even called into the battle.
With his anger overflowing, T’Kana addressed his audience, his tone sharp as a dagger’s point. Several senior commanders, all combat veterans, shivered involuntarily as he spoke.
“Fellow warriors, it is with a burning rage that I address you today. A rage fueled by the knowledge that our beloved empire has been conquered by an unholy alien alliance, a conquest that was aided and abetted by incompetent or traitorous actions at the highest level of the empire.”
A murmur went up from the assembled officers, but stopped when T’Kana began anew.
“Warriors, we cannot let this situation stand! I propose that we take steps to bring the K’Rang Empire back to its former glory. I have a list here of 21 K’Rang official, civil and military personnel that presided over or let this fiasco occur. The gutless Council of Peers has told us for two years that they would hold full hearings on the events culminating in the Battle of G’Durin. I believed them, but they lied! They have moved on to rebuilding what was lost and are not even questioning the principals; therefore, it falls to us. These 21 individuals will be brought before military tribunals, presented with their crimes, tried, if found guilty, sentenced, and, if the tribunal so rules, executed. After the traitors and incompetents are weeded out we will move on the capitol and the regional centers of government for the main and secondary worlds. The K’Rang Empire must prevail!”
Murmurs and shouts both
for and against rose up from the assembled officers. Most of the shouts dealt with what would be the Human and Angaerry response if this plan was carried out.
“Hear me out. The Humans and the Angaerry will stay out of this as long as they see it as an internal K’Rang matter. We will give them every assurance that this is just an internal rearrangement and no threat to them, until such time as we have rebuilt our fleet with proper ships and leadership. Then we will remove their representatives and spies from the Empire and seal our borders. My calculations show we have enough undamaged shipyards that we can build up to 20 ships a month once we are up to full production levels.”
T’Kana projected a list of names onto the main screen and the group hushed. He pronounced these K’Rang to be the main suspected perpetrators of the disaster that resulted in the battle of G’Durin and the Empire’s defeat. The list was replaced with a series of single slides with each individual’s picture, name, charges, and evidence synopsis. The list included Baron G’Rof (former commander of the Grand Armada), Senior Elder J’Gon, General F’Roku (ground forces liaison to the Elders), Baron N’Gana (Secretary to the Elders), Shadow Leader G’Motta (former commander of the lunar defense facilities), Baron B’Tala (head of K’Rang Intelligence), and fifteen more high level military and governmental officials.
One unified force commander, M’Juna, stood and addressed T’Kana. “Sir, I have no love for those that directed this debacle, but I also have no desire to see the commanders’ battle decisions questioned by those who were not there. You know as well as I that decisions made during the battle are made with incomplete information and within split seconds. The historians pore over all the records for months and then point out how stupid we were to turn left when any fool could see the obvious and correct choice should have been to go right. Of course, bombardment frigates are not pursuing these academics and killing a company of warriors with each blast so close you can feel the heat from the plasma ball. How are we to judge these commander’s decisions?”
All Enemies Foreign and Domestic (Kelly Blake series) Page 1