“Ishak atsuem o soyma,” said the man.
“Yes, to serve your master. How do you serve your master? “De yo?”
“Ishak wakiho kosu omono hakaisik suhra.”
“To destroy my enemies,” said Veiju with satisfaction. “You are magnificent in your own right, Korba 114. You are the product of mass conception and rapid, controlled maturation. But now you will undergo a metamorphosis. You will become an invincible warrior. The entire galaxy will kneel before you in fear and wonder.”
“All is ready, Daiya Veiju,” said Asika.
Veiju nodded and pulled his hand away from Korba 114’s forehead. Then he walked toward a machine where the Visk technicians, Dross Faan, and the enormous Grenn were waiting.
“Shall Torval and I prepare to attend to matters as we did twice before?” asked Dross Faan mockingly. The geometric tattoo-like implants on the mollag’s neck and forearms glinted with a faint green light as he spoke. Faan winked at the gray-skinned Grenn, who uttered a rumbling grunt in response.
“It will not be necessary,” replied Veiju dismissively. “Not this time.”
A sardonic smile spread across Faan’s lips. “As you wish,” he said with a shrug. He took a slightly exaggerated step backward to distance himself from the upcoming experiment.
Veiju reached into the folds of his purple and black robes and retrieved three crystals of varying lengths. He handed them to Asika, who inserted them into receptacles in the console and entered a series of commands. A large circle of pulsating blue light appeared on a screen to her right.
One of the Visk technicians looked toward Veiju, though not in the eye, and said, “Daiya Veiju, would you honor us by initiating the transfer?”
“Yes. I would like that very much.”
Veiju clicked his teeth together with mounting excitement and extended his finger to touch the blue circle. The moment he made contact, the sound of moving machine parts emanated from somewhere above their heads. The group directed their attention to the roof of the cave. An apparatus with a long protruding spike slowly descended from the darkness over Korba 114 until it was just a hand’s breadth from the man’s head. The spike started spinning rapidly. Its tip began to glow and crackle with energy. Thin, irregularly shaped arcs of red, orange, and yellow light leaped from the spike to strike the center of the man’s forehead.
Korba 114 flexed every muscle in his body then slowly squirmed on the table as the flashing bolts of energy striking him increased in power and frequency. It was not long before he was pulling hard against the restraints. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his hands into fists. The arcing bolts of energy soon coalesced into a single white beam that flowed from the tip of the spinning spike into the man’s forehead. He convulsed violently and emitted loud growling sounds from deep in his throat as he vainly sought to open his mouth and release the screams trapped behind his locked jaw.
Inside the tall cylinder the cloudy liquid began to glow a chalky white. The shape within began to stir. It twitched its fingers several times then suddenly jerked its right arm. As the human on the table shook and thrashed, the body suspended in the cylinder grew increasingly animated until it too was shaking with violent spasms. Finally, the liquid burned a bright white while on the table Korba 114’s body underwent a final spasm before going limp. Moments later, the flow of energy ceased and the spinning spike came to rest. All was silent.
Veiju gave Asika a questioning look. As the metal spike withdrew to its cradle above, she quickly reviewed a stream of data flowing across a screen to her left then nodded to Veiju.
“The process is complete,” she said.
“Open the chamber!” shouted Veiju. “Open it now!”
A technician did as instructed and opened a portal at the bottom of the large cylinder, releasing the liquid, now turned a dark gray, into a channel cut into the floor. The channel directed the fluid toward the nearby trickling stream where it mingled with its waters and flowed out of the underground laboratory. The group of Visk hurried toward the chamber and the figure slumped inside. Its back was pressed against the chamber’s inner wall, head hanging forward. A leg protruded from the opening through which the liquid had escaped. A technician reached into the cylinder and removed a small mask from the figure’s mouth and set it on the stone floor. The Visk then held out a device which emitted a red ribbon of light and quickly ran it over the pale, naked body. The figure slowly lifted its head, causing all of the Visk to click their teeth with excitement. It opened its eyes and gazed upon the group through pure black orbs then it rose to its feet and stepped through the cylinder’s opening.
Veiju stepped forward and said, “Korba 114, do you understand me?”
The tall, broad-shouldered figure wiped away a layer of thick liquid from its arm and examined the tight mesh of gray bio-synthetic materials that comprised its skin. It raised both hands to touch its hairless scalp then passed them over its nose, mouth, and chin, exploring their shape and size.
Veiju took a step closer and repeated himself more forcefully. “Korba 114! Do you understand me?”
Veiju shot the Visk technicians a questioning look. “Why isn’t it responding? Must I still speak in Sova?”
A technician examined the results of the scan he had just performed. “Its language centers should be functioning properly. Sova remains its battle language, but it should also understand standard Malorian.”
“Perhaps it’s even more stupid than the others,” suggested Dross Faan as he and Torval approached from behind the group.
Veiju pointed his arm toward the Brevian. “Silence!” he demanded. “What does a rotting mollag know of creating new life? Or do you wish to undergo the process and cheat death even longer?”
“And become one of your simpleton Chacksu? I don’t think so,” retorted Faan.
The sound of raised voices caught Korba 114’s attention. It looked at Veiju and cocked its head sideways.
“Oh look,” said Faan with a lung-gurgling laugh. “It has feelings of affection for you.”
“You go too far,” warned Veiju. “I will tolerate only so much of your insubordination.”
Sensing Veiju’s growing anger, Korba 114 studied the Grenn and Brevian standing several paces away. A change in its dark eyes prompted Torval to activate his mace-like prosk. Faan casually drew a dagger with his left hand and a particle gun with his right. Korba 114 responded by squaring its shoulders and taking a step toward Torval.
The Grenn displayed his large, flat teeth and growled a low warning.
“Korba 114! Stop!” ordered Veiju.
Faan raised his pistol and pointed it at the Chacksu’s head.
“I command you to stop!” demanded Veiju.
Korba 114 ceased its advance but did not take its eyes off of Faan or Torval.
Slowly exhaling with relief, Veiju said, “Korba 114, what is your purpose?”
“To serve my master,” said the Dhurlan warrior in a deep, menacing voice.
“And how do you serve your master?”
“I will destroy all who pose a threat.”
Veiju opened his mouth and clicked his teeth. Glancing at the others he said delightedly, “Yes, yes! To destroy all who pose a threat.”
He walked to where his creation stood and gripped its upper arms, testing the quality of the Chacksu’s armored skin, nodding his head with approval.
“Welcome, Korba 114! Welcome, my first Chacksu warrior, the first of many! Soon I will have thousands upon thousands even millions of you, a mighty army of perfect warriors that will grind the Sahiradin into submission. We will end this pointless conflict and lay the foundations of a new Trade Federation under Dhurlan rule!”
Veiju turned to look at the group of technicians huddled behind him. “Success! Are the production facilities on Iso Boht ready?”
“Yes, Daiya Veiju, said Asika, clearly relieved with the experiment’s outcome. “Production can begin as soon as we transmit the protocols. Of course, the crystals will als
o be required.”
“Do it. Transfer them as quickly as possible. My brother, Yeura, will deliver the crystals tonight. I want every single clone in our inventory converted. Give them armor. Give them shields. Give them weapons. The Dhurlan are going war!”
Chapter 6
The enemy of a good plan is the dream of a perfect plan.
- Carl von Clausewitz.
“Go! Go! Go!” shouted a Ranger captain to the left of Logan.
Thirty five Rangers, a special forces unit pulled from Logan’s Second Army and specially trained for combat against the Sahiradin, dashed down the ramp of the Lycian-designed gunship.
This joint operation between Second Army and the Earth Defense Force, a rather grand title for a military consisting of contributions from just a handful of nations. Despite his intense lobbying to play a greater role in the EDF, Attika and her Septemberist Revolutionaries who had assumed power after Harken fled Earth aboard a Sahiradin shuttle, still refused to make a permanent commitment to the multi-national force.
A hundred meters away on either side of Logan, Second Army Rangers dressed in gray and brown camouflage under light but sturdy body armor were issuing forth from two additional gunships. As soon as all boots had touched the frozen soil of the ice planet, Tuska IV, the three gunships lifted off to patrol the dark skies above and collect intelligence on any enemy activity.
“What’s the report, Colonel Amari?” asked Logan.
“All present and accounted for,” said Amari, his finger pressed against the Lycian-issued comms device in his ear.
“Bravo Platoon will take point, Charlie and Alpha will follow. Keep it loose.” Raising his eyes, he gazed into the distance. “Make for those two peaks for one klick. Engage ABS.”
All along the line, Rangers engaged their antiballistic shields, which briefly shimmered silver before turning invisible. The Lycian-designed shields were far more effective than versions manufactured under the Guardians. They lasted several hours longer, could absorb far more particle beam energy before dissipating, and the bracer that powered them could project a hardened force field about one meter in diameter for use in close-quarters combat.
“Antiballistic shields engaged, General Brandt,” said Colonel Amari. “I’m joining Bravo Platoon, sir.”
Logan had come to rely heavily on his former classmate, Hamza Amari. Hamza was intelligent, brave, and fiercely loyal to Logan. The two of them had been through a lot together, including chasing down the remnants of the PRA’s Third Army, which had remained true to the Guardians, and taking on several missions against Sahiradin targets such as this one on Tuska IV.
Logan looked into the corner of his helmet visor and activated his battlefield HUD. He scrolled through the data being transmitted by the gunships’ sensors as well as by Daring Star, a Le’iet class fast attack ship in orbit above. The Lycians had contributed the frigate to this mission. No sign of Sahiradin ships or ground forces. Of course, that could change at any second, but for now, all signs were good. A few weeks earlier this had been Sahiradin territory abutting a mineral rich system owned by a small but influential Visk Syndicate called the Ikari. The Sahiradin had quietly built up a small base here, presumably to pave the way for an attack against the Ikari. When the Ikari discovered its presence, they demanded that Chancellor Penawah order a strike against it. The Chancellor hadn’t been very happy about expending resources against such a minor Sahiradin outpost, but she didn’t dare deny the Visk syndicate their request, given how weak the bonds between Alliance members had become since the fall of Halduan.
The attack on the Tuska IV outpost had been swift and overwhelming. The Sahiradin were either killed or driven off. But the Lycians did not feel it was necessary to garrison the planet after winning it back. This decision had allowed a force of Sahiradin to surreptitiously return. The Ikari once again detected the enemy’s presence on Tuska IV and demanded Penawah send another task force to deal with them and ensure they did not return. The timing of this request could not have been worse. Penawah depended on the Ikari for their support in the Dewar, but both Admiral Var-Imar and General Ghorla warned her about devoting scarce resources to such a minor undertaking when all signs indicated the Sahiradin would be launching a major offensive at any moment.
That was when Chancellor Penawah’s leading advisor, Ambassador Pendu Barka, approached Ravenwood with the request that the Humani take on this mission to Tuska IV. As the United Earth Council’s ambassador to the Lycian Federation, Ravenwood expressed reservations about the request. Humani and Alliance forces had engaged in joint operations in the past, but this would be the first Earth-only military operation against the Sahiradin. To quell Ravenwood’s concerns, Barka offered to donate to Earth three gunships and Daring Star, all to be crewed by recently trained Humani members of the EDF.
Ravenwood conveyed the request to Council leadership and the UEC Secretary General Broussard. He secured their approval, but was later dismayed to learn that the promised Le’iet frigate was less than state of the art. In fact, it had been one of a number of ships designated to be decommissioned due to age. Upon discovering this, Ravenwood’s first impulse was to withdraw from the agreement, but after consulting with his deputy, Consul Elizabeth Styles, as well as Logan and the EDF’s commanding officer, General Joshua Longmire, he was convinced to honor the commitment.
The next challenge was to decide which forces to send. General Longmire had a well-trained crew to man the donated Lycian frigate and also planned to select ground troops from his meager supply of Earth Defense Force marines, but Logan had insisted that he lead the ground attack using his own Second Army Rangers. It would exhaust the last of the funding Attika and the new Septemberist-packed Congress had allocated for such operations, but he wanted to demonstrate what his Rangers were capable of. The others agreed and Logan selected a group of Rangers to serve as his Expeditionary Force, or Exforce.
“Exforce do you hear me? This is Captain Sobieskov.”
“This is Exforce. Go ahead, Captain,” replied Logan. Sobieskov had been the navy officer assigned to command the Daring Star.
“We are detecting what we believe to be a Sahiradin vessel approaching our position,” continued Sobieskov. “I am taking Daring Star to investigate. You must rely on the gunships for top cover. Understood?”
“Captain, I urge you to remain in position. Do not allow yourself to be drawn off and leave us unprotected,” said Logan. He tried to hide his frustration with the captain. Despite Logan’s superior rank, Longmire had given Sobieskov overall command of the operation.
“We will not go far, General Brandt. Signal if you encounter the enemy.”
“Understood,” said Logan reluctantly.
“Gunships, this is Brandt, did you copy that from Daring Star?”
“Roger that, sir. We’ll maintain top cover.”
The three platoons continued forward, weaving their way between jagged boulders and leaping over deep fissures. The ground began to rise as they approached the peaks Logan had identified earlier. Soon they were moving along the side of a narrow ridge, careful not walk along the top and expose their profiles to anyone watching from a distance. After about ten minutes of carefully picking their way through the rugged terrain, Logan received another transmission from Sobieskov.
“Exforce, Exforce, this is Daring Star, do you copy?”
“We hear you,” said Logan.
“Two enemy vessels, inbound on your position. ETA five minutes. They’re hugging the ground and coming at you at a bearing of three-two-niner.”
Logan looked at the display in his battlefield HUD, changing the view to the tactical map. He saw two red blips approaching fast from what on Earth would be described as the northwest. As he did this, all three EDF gunships punched their engines and roared off into the night to meet the enemy bogies.
“Gunships! Gunships! Where’s my top cover?” shouted Logan into his comms device. “One of you needs to stay with us!”
There was no
reply.
“Gunships!” said Logan once more.
Damn it! This kind of breakdown in coordination was exactly the thing that could get his entire team killed. Establishing a proper chain of command for future joint operations would be his top priority following this mission, assuming he made it home alive.
Looking to his right, he saw Hamza approaching. “Okay, Colonel Amari, what’s your recommendation?”
“We’re exposed on this hill, sir. Without top cover and with an entrenched enemy of unknown size ahead of us, I say we withdraw until we can get the gunships back.”
Logan considered his options. Hamza’s recommendation was a smart play, but war was not only about weighing the dangers of action, but also of inaction. His troops were as well trained as any Earth that had to offer. Many of them had fought the Sahiradin at Bullard Creek and other joint Lycian actions.
Telescoping his visor’s view, he peered into the distance. No sign of the enemy. He should probably withdraw and wait it out like Hamza recommended, but something in his gut didn’t like doing that. He felt a stirring in his breast like the swirling winds of a cyclone. He knew the sensation and understood its meaning. The spirits were trying to tell him something. He was missing something – some critical sign was eluding him.
He looked around at the bleak, dark landscape. The terrain here seemed to be somehow wrong but how? He raised his eyes toward their destination, the Sahiradin fortification believed to now be reoccupied about five hundred meters ahead near the top of the ridge.
Then he saw it. It was obvious. How could he have missed it?
“This way, Colonel,” he said to Hamza.
Hamza signaled for two Rangers to follow Logan through a cluster of large black rocks. Hamza followed, sweeping his gaze from left to right in search of any sign of enemy activity.
Logan stopped in front of one of the rocks. He walked in a circle around it, searching the ground. Something caught his eye. He stooped down and removed a half-buried stone, exposing a handle. He quickly cleared away dust and small rocks to reveal the outlines of a trap door.
The Renegade Page 5