The Elder turned to Haddron and motioned toward the group at the cave. “These are the rest of my people. The Night Hunter—as you call him—has worked tirelessly to bring us together.”
“Why are you all working for the Ka’traxis Brood, anyway? Can’t you fight back?” Jammin asked.
“Into the cave. Please.”
“Out of sight,” the Night Hunter said. His speech was choppy.
As everyone gathered into the cave, Irons looked back out, checking that they weren’t followed. After all of the noise, it was a certainty that a Catter scout team would be dispatched. They hadn’t traveled far enough away from the terraformed side to drop their guard.
Irons ducked into the cave and watched as the freed slaves huddled around the fire and their fellow people. Jammin leaned against the rocky wall while Durham and Hannah stood just inside the mouth of the cave. Only Haddron joined the Elder and Night Hunter near the fire.
“How did the Ka’traxis come to enslave you?” Haddron asked.
“Our people know nothing of fight,” the Elder said. “The very word is as foreign to us as you are.”
“That sounds like us,” Jammin said. “We’re not violent either.”
“Your actions prove different.”
“Some of us are different,” Haddron said.
“The planet below. Erra?” the Elder asked.
“Yes. Being taken over because so few of my people, like you, do not know ‘fight’.” Haddron gestured toward the wounds of the surrounding people in the cave. “How did this happen to you?”
“The Ka’traxis Brood came to us with words of help.”
“Lies,” the Night Hunter broke in. “Smile with knife at back.”
“That sounds about right,” Durham said.
“Yes. They perceived, in us, weakness. Our ignorance of war made us easy to manipulate. They told us we could sail the stars and never leave home.”
“Did you know what that meant?” Jammin asked.
“We are a curious people. Always seeking knowledge. To travel the universe? Such things to learn. All we did learn.” The Elder held his hands up, looking at the calluses and blisters from their toils. “Pain and suffering. We work with our planet. The Ka’traxis Brood command we change it.”
“They have machine,” the Night Hunter said. “Still make for us to…” He struggled to find the word and crouched down, scooping up a pile of dirt. He hit the dirt with his fist then dug it out of his hand, signaling one of the tasks they’d been forced to perform.
“You say you don’t know violence,” Irons said. “You don’t know fight. But that one,” he pointed at the Night Hunter. “That one’s seen combat. Been in fight.”
“The Ka’traxis Brood do not know our land as we do. We hid for so long until we were captured. Many have made the final walk since the first days.” the Elder said. “This one stayed hidden. Watched and learned fight. “
“The black suit is a good tactic,” Irons said. “Keeps him camouflaged at night.”
The Night Hunter tugged at his shirt. “I make.”
“What are they doing to your planet?” Haddron asked, curious about the black suit but more concerned with what the Catters were planning.
“He calls it an Orbital Galaxy,” the Elder explained. “Created to…” He put his balled fists in front of the fire, casting their shadows on the cave wall. Slowly he moved them toward each other and spread his fingers. As he moved his hands closer together, his fingers interlaced until he tensed them, locking them in.
Irons cocked his head to the side. “You telling me this thing is gonna hook up with something just like it?”
“The planet below,” the Elder replied.
“They would do to Erra what they have done to you?” Haddron spun toward Jammin who pushed off the wall to stand upright.
“They’re trying to make a weaponized solar system.” Hannah’s shoulders slumped. “Earth Fleet could never beat something like that.”
“Nor could Erra,” Haddron said. “And they would not even need more than two planets. One may be enough.”
“So they build a bunch of cannons and guns into the planets,” Durham said. “They could take over the whole universe like that. If we thought a fleet of tanks and LAVs were bad—”
“Conquest. That is his desire,” the Elder said.
“His?” Irons made his way toward those around the fire. “You said, ‘He’, too. What does that mean?”
“He is the reason for our enslavement. Their words were of kindness until he showed. Then there was only pain.” The Elder hung his head low, saddened by their burdens.
“Who is ‘He’?” Irons asked.
The Elder looked up at Irons. “Tar’libon S-dahl. King and ruler of the Ka’traxis Brood Empire.”
Durham’s head shot up to Hannah who spun around to Irons.
“What?” Irons asked. “The Catters ain’t got a King.”
“That is not entirely accurate,” Haddron said.
* * *
A strobe of light illuminated the darkened ceiling of the King’s throne room and Tar’libon dropped from the rafters to the floor below. His knees bent to cushion his landing. Elit watched the sharpened teeth peeking out from the King’s smirk.
“As you can see,” Elit said. “It is possible for you to—”
Another flash cut the Nordic off as the King disappeared then reappeared behind Elit.
“I need only think of where I want to go and…” He pressed the lens again and vanished, reappearing above the floor, hanging from one of the chains going across the room.
Elit winced at the strange sound of Tar’libon’s laughter. “Precisely, my liege.”
The King dropped to the floor. “Cease your words of fawning. I care little for them.” He walked to his boulder of a throne and sat, staring at the device. “You have won favor with me in exchange for this wonderful device.”
“Thank you, sire. I wish only—”
Tar’libon held up one finger, silencing Elit. “I can go wherever I want. Whenever I want. No place is off limits from me.”
“That is not entirely true, King Tar’libon,” a woman’s voice replied.
The King’s eyes slowly turned forward, irritated at more visitors entering his throne room, uninvited. “Who is that?”
“It is I, Sire.” Naura stepped out from behind one of the stone pillars. “I do hope you remember.”
The King launched to his feet. “You!” He clenched both fists, shattering the teleporter.
Elit backed away, ready to run if necessary. Should the King come after him in his anger, running would be his only option.
Tar’libon rushed at Naura who teleported out of his way and reappeared next to the throne.
“Please, Sire. Hear what I have to say.”
The King fumed and spun to face the Nordic woman. “You were supposed to show upon my arrival.”
“Apologies.”
“Instead, I have had my people hunting for you.”
“I realize the inconvenience that must have put you through, great King.”
Tar’libon roared in response to her matter of fact tone. Naura bravely held her ground while Elit shrank back even further.
“We had a deal! An agreement!” the King shouted.
“Do we still not?” Naura asked, calmer than she deserved, under the circumstances.
“Did you bring me what you promised?”
“Your end was to attack Earth. To force a the completion of Haddron’s revenge.”
Tar’libon dropped Elit’s broken teleporter to the floor. “An easier time that would have been with the Slagschip in my possession. Like you promised.”
“What is he talking about, Naura?” Elit asked.
“You’ve played your hand, Elit. None of this concerns you any longer.”
Elit walked slowly toward the King, drawing a dagger. “I am making a new deal with his Royal Highness. One which I have already delivered on my promise.” He stopped nex
t to Tar’libon. “She’s a tricky one, my liege. But I can end her for you.”
“Then how would he attain the Slagschip?” Naura asked.
The King looked down at Elit, noticing the blade in his hand. “What promise did you make good on?”
Elit glanced up. “The teleporter. I gave it to you.”
Tar’libon looked down at the broken device then to his empty hands. “I have no such thing.” There was a sinister glint in his eye.
“But I do.” Naura held up her device.
“That’s not—No,” Elit said. “I am not to blame for what you broke.”
“You dare accuse me!” Tar’libon turned to fully face Elit.
The knife blade was quick but slid, harmlessly, across the King’s armor. Tar’libon grabbed Elit by the throat and lifted him into the air.
“I might have let you run.” The King sneered. “But as your former companion explained, you’ve already played your hand.”
“Please, Sire. I—”
“I do not imagine it would have been long before you turned on me. I could tell from our first meeting that you were a schemer. I despise schemers.” Tar’libon raised Elit even higher then drove him toward the stone floor, crushing his throat on impact.
Elit made no sound except that of his arms and legs writhing along the floor. It was an involuntary reaction to lungs no longer able to take in air.
Tar’libon stood over the dying Nordic until his body stopped twitching and his eyes lost all life. He slowly turned to Naura. “I will take yours now.” He pointed at the teleporter in her hand.
“With this you will attain the Slagschip then you will make good on our deal.”
The King smiled. It was hard to tell if it was an expression of agreement or one of treachery. She would have to trust it was the former to get what she wanted.
“You know where it is?”
Naura looked down at Elit’s lifeless form. “I do,” she said with some regret. “You should know. The humans who defeated your Queen are on it.”
The King let out a roar of laughter at his good fortune. Two objects of his desire would soon be his in addition to his revenge for Queen Ju’T-leen.
“There is more.”
“You have made this day better than I thought it could ever be.” Tar’libon stepped forward.
Naura stepped back, her thumb over the lens of her teleporter.
“Be calm.” The King moved toward his throne and sat. “You have nothing to fear from me. We will call your previous absenteeism a late arrival. Besides, you are bestowing me with far too much to count you of little use.”
Naura stood a little straighter, confident in her new position of worth to the King. “The one human who led the charge against the Queen is on the planetoid above us.”
“Well,” the King said. “This is truly a special day.” He turned to the throne room door. “Praetorian!” he yelled in his native language.
The door opened and an armored Catter with a gun in one hand and a shield on its arm rushed forward and began to bow.
“There is little time for that,” Tar’libon said. “Sound the alarm on our war machine. There are human guests of particular note there that I should like to have words with. Find them. Bring them to me.”
The warrior bowed his head and rushed back out of the room, not bothering to close the door.
“And now for the Slagschip.”
“They have vast offensive abilities.”
“Then we will send many their way.” The King stood and turned to Naura. “Once you give me the coordinates.”
* * *
Irons walked back and forth just inside the cave, flattening the dirt on the ground even more. “I don’t believe it.”
“I don’t think they’d lie about that, Boss,” Durham said.
The others in the cave watched the human pace in a five foot space. Some of them grew fearful of his rising temper while the Night Hunter tightened his fists, ready to battle the Captain if it came down to that.
“How come we didn’t know about this?” Irons asked.
“The Ka’traxis Brood have always been ruled by a King,” Haddron said. “The Queen has always been a figure head of their empire.”
“You knew?”
“Not from any history lesson. Only those close to the crown would ever know such information.”
“What do you mean, ‘close to the crown’?” Durham asked. “You working with the Catters?”
“Only one. My dear departed friend.”
“So he was close to the crown?” Durham asked.
“Close?” Jammin interjected. “Karl was the crown.”
“Kar’libon S-dahl was the rightful heir to the Ka’traxis Brood Empire. Until his brother led a coup and banished him.”
Durham stood with his hands on his head. “What? This is too much.” He walked to the mouth of the cave and stared out into the woods.
“What happens if the King falls?” Irons asked.
“So too would his Empire,” Haddron said.
A faint sound blared in the distance.
“What is that?” Hannah asked.
“The alert,” the Elder said.
Jammin rushed for the cave entrance. “Alert for what?”
“It is only rung when the Ka’traxis are to move en masse.”
Durham turned to the Elder. “When does that usually happen?”
“When after me,” the Night Hunter replied.
Nineteen
Long Odds
A loud, irritating sound blared on the bridge of the Slagschip modified Lucky Liberty. It wasn’t the normal, digital sound. This one was grating, like an alarm clock that jolts the sleeper awake.
“What is that?” Syracuse yelled.
“I don’t know that alarm!” Lindsay yelled back.
“It is the proximity sensor!” Sitasha explained. “Something is approaching!”
Lindsay input random commands until the irritating sound finally stopped.
“Get me a visual, Private,” Syracuse ordered.
“Working on it, Commander.” Lindsay kept trying more commands to no affect. The Slagschip’s integration with the Lucky Liberty altered the bridge’s control consoles so much that even the familiar buttons didn’t do what they were originally designed for.
Sitasha rushed to Lindsay’s side. “I do not know your ship but I may be able to assist you.”
The two women tried various command inputs on the console. “Sadly, the Slagschip takes many operators,” Sitasha said. “It may be necessary to—”
One command finally brought an exterior display online. Much to their regret.
“We ain’t ready for this,” Syracuse said of the sight in front of them.
Carter tanks and LAVs stormed out of the numerous black and purple wormholes.
“Brooks! Trevern!” Syracuse yelled. “Battle stations, yesterday!”
“You want me below deck, sir?” Lou Trevern asked.
“Negative.” Syracuse ran for the Captains seat, positioning himself behind the wheel. “Figure out how to get our guns back up. Brooks, you managed to get that Wave Cannon working. We’re gonna need that. I’ll get us moving. You keep that frequency weapon going. We’re gonna shake them all apart if we have to.”
“Aye, sir!” Lindsay ran her fingers across the control console, finally finding the activation switch for the Wave Cannon. “Ready to fire!”
“Activating thrusters!” Syracuse pushed the thrust lever to max.
* * *
Initial movement was shaky and lumbering. It was a strange effect for being in a zero G environment. The jet flame from the Lucky Liberty was large and powerful but not so much that it sent the ship hurtling at untold speeds.
The Catter tanks fired first while the LAVs sped ahead, driving along the top of the Slagschip and firing at its guns. A few explosions burst out from the small number of guns that were dealt any damage. Fires were quickly put out by the emergency systems of the vessel, leaving the
hull of the Slagschip relatively unharmed. The wave ripple burst out from the nose of the Nordic vessel as it flew toward the nearest tank. It was little time till the entire Catter cruiser was shaking violently. The vibrations streaked over and inside of the tank, literally rattling it apart. By the time the Salgschip might have crashed into it, all that was left was pieces to push through. There were no explosions and no fires. Only small pieces of what was a vessel to be feared, now made into space debris without a single traditional shot being fired.
The pieces clanged and bounced off the hull of the Slagschip as it made its way to the next target. The other tanks changed their course to avoid staying directly in line with the merged ships but Commander Syracuse Hill was no slouch when it came to piloting.
The Slagschip didn’t have the same kind of sharp turning performance when it came to steering. With its offensive capabilities, it didn’t have to. It was designed to move slowly within a field of battle, firing off direct and indirect shots at enemy ranks. And if it wasn’t for the unfamiliar operations on the bridge, those aboard might have been in for an unexciting battle. But with only the Wave Cannon and the greater number of enemy ships, there was no choice but to take evasive maneuvers.
As the Slagschip turned, it caught two LAVs in the Wave Cannon’s attack, taking the smaller ships apart even faster than the tanks. The single Catter pilot ships were rendered as nothing more than small space rocks. The remains of the pilots became floating blobs of liquid, drifting to parts unknown.
It was not a perfect scenario and there was no telling how long the Slagschip would stand up to the firepower of the Catter tanks. The only hope was to stay out of their line of fire while taking out as many as they could.
* * *
“Commander,” Lou Trevern said. “More are coming through!”
“I see that, Lieutenant. How are my guns looking?”
“Still searching, sir.” Lou’s fingers moved around the control console, trying to find another weapons command.
Sitasha glanced back at Lou. “It is possible that console has no offensive measures.”
ROYAL LINE (War In The Void Book 3) Page 13