The Renegade

by P. M. Johnson

“What do you think you’re doing, Attika?” demanded Logan as soon as she had closed the door to her well-appointed and spacious office.

  She walked to her desk, upon which rested several stacks of documents, and dropped into her leather chair. Letting out a sigh of fatigue and irritation, she said, “What is it this time, Brandt?”

  “You know what it is! Congress voted against joining the Lycian Alliance, and there’s rumors we’re leaving the United Earth Council. What the hell’s happening, Attika? We can’t just sit on the sidelines. We need to be part of this fight!”

  “Ah yes, the United Earth Council has decided to throw in with the Lycians,” said Attika in a rather dismissive tone. “Now every nation is supposed to commit troops to the Earth Defense Force.”

  “It’ll take every soldier we’ve got to defeat the Sahiradin, Attika. What’s going on?”

  “It’s complicated, Brandt. Let me start by saying that I do not pretend to know the mind of Congress, but if you would take the time to read the meeting minutes you’ll see that by voting down the proposal to join the EDF we free ourselves of the associated funding obligations. I needn’t tell you that times are tough for us in the Federated States, and although we have allowed you and your little band of warriors to participate in a number of Lycian actions, Congress has reprioritized the nation’s obligations. They are putting our citizens and their basic needs ahead of sending you on any more space adventures like…where was it this time?”

  “Tuska IV,” said Logan coolly.

  “Well, wherever it was, you can hang up your sword and laser beam guns. You’re wings have been clipped.”

  “Those joint ops with the Lycians were not adventures, Attika. Good men and women have died fighting the Sahiradin on alien worlds. And they died to protect the people of Earth. But it took an Act of Congress, and I mean that literally, to join those operations. We can’t function this way and hope to survive. Now is the time for us to make a real and permanent commitment. Other nations are supplying money and troops to the EDF and so should we.”

  Attika responded with a mild shrug. “Congress has spoken, Brandt. Instead of complaining to me, maybe you should be haranguing your Representative. Ms. Ruiz-Carter is her name in case you cared to know.”

  “Representative who?” exclaimed Logan. “Don’t try to send me down some bureaucratic rabbit hole, Attika. Two-thirds of Congress consists of your Septemberist cronies and the rest are hollow-headed idiots with no idea of what’s at stake. Congress barely debated the EDF proposal then voted it down at two o’clock in the morning when no one was around to object. They never would have done that without your approval.”

  Now it was Attika’s turn to raise her voice in anger. “Hold it right there, Brandt. You’re getting out of line. This was just a committee vote. There is still a chance to vote it out of committee and onto the floor for consideration by the entire Congress. It’ll be up to the Executive Committee to schedule a vote. But before any of that can happen the bill will have to be amended to garner enough support.”

  Logan shot his hand forward and swept a stack of documents off Attika’s desk and onto the floor.

  “Damn it, Attika! We’re talking about the survival of our species! You sit here and play your little power games, but you don’t realize that there won’t be anyone left for you to rule over if the Sahiradin come.”

  Attika tightened her lips and glowered at Logan.

  “First of all, I don’t rule over anybody; I’m merely an advisor to Congress. And second, we aren’t the only nation on this planet, Brandt. Your friend Ravenwood worked some kind of magic over there in Europe and convinced plenty of others around the world to join with the Lycians. But understand this, as soon as the Lycians get their hands on our soldiers, they’ll be sending them all over the galaxy. Just you wait and see. They’ll use humans as their front line cannon fodder. And who would blame them? Why would they risk their own when they’ve got gung-ho Logan Brandt and his adoring throng of soldiers to throw at the Sahiradin! I say let other countries sacrifice their own people. It’s time we took care of our own.”

  Logan’s face grew red with anger. His rage caused the spirits within him to become agitated as well, adding fuel to the fire burning in his guts. Violent thoughts sprang into his head. Strike the insolent fool! The inner voice was his, but the source behind it was not. Logan would have liked nothing better than to strike Attika and it took all his strength not to follow his impulse.

  “But we are the ones who understand the Sahiradin best, Attika,” he said as evenly as he could though his voice trembled with rage. “The PRA, the Nine, and those who came before even harbored one of the bastards for decades while he fed us advanced technology centuries ahead of our time.”

  “Yes, technology the Guardians used to oppress us and wage pointless wars!” snapped Attika. “We’re done with all that, Brandt! Now we’re using that technology to improve people’s lives. Can’t you see this nation is exhausted? The people are tired of sending their sons and daughters to fight and die for the ambitions of politicians and generals when they barely have any food on their tables. You may not get it, Brandt, but this new government of ours is facing challenges like no other in history. Yes, we’ve got an alien species out there threatening to exterminate us at some point in the future, but we’ve got death by starvation standing at our doorstep right now! The blight continues to destroy our crops, but no one wants to sell us food because the damn Guardians created an economy built on a credit system instead of hard currency. And the western states are threatening to pull out of this government if we don’t get our act together. So while you stand here demanding money that we don’t have so you can go fight bogeymen on planets no one has ever heard of, I’m trying to prevent this nation from collapsing into chaos!”

  Logan stood straight and placed his hands on his hips. He closed his eyes for a few moments to regain control over his emotions. He didn’t used to be so quick to anger, but that all changed when he entered that laboratory on Tarsik three years before. He reflected on the cauldron of rage boiling inside him. He felt the spirits within him whispering their warnings of Sahiradin domination, how they would exterminate all of humanity unless Earth defended itself. They understood the nature of the debate he was having with Attika, and they also feared the day when Sahiradin ships would appear in Earth’s orbit. Warriors would swarm through Earth’s cities. Their swords would gleam with Humani blood as they murdered millions in service of their twisted interpretation of the Law. And when they had satisfied their barbaric blood lust, they would withdraw to their ships and poison Earth’s atmosphere, as they did to Tarsik, killing any who had escaped their blades. Logan suppressed the unbidden thoughts and images of Sahiradin atrocities that flashed before his mind’s eye, though he could not ignore the deep desire to kill any Sahiradin he could lay hands on.

  “I’ve done everything you asked me to do, Attika,” he said as he clenched his hands into fists until his knuckles turned bone white. “After Harken fled, I took my forces north and finished off Third Army. I couldn’t capture the Guardians like you wanted. The people pulled them out of their holes and passed judgment before I could get them. But I eventually tracked down Linsky and delivered him to you. That was two years ago, and you still haven’t done what you promised. You said we would focus on the Sahiradin once the Guardians and Linsky were out of the way. Now get your Septemberists lackeys in Congress to vote in favor of joining the Earth Defense Force before it’s too late!”

  Attika threw her hands in the air in disbelief and frustration.

  “You just don’t get it, do you, Brandt? I can’t help you! I have influence, but Congress has a mind of its own. You may not believe me, but it’s true. And if you don’t like it, there’s no one preventing you from joining the EDF on your own. But of course, that would mean you’d have to resign your commission as commander of Second Army, and I don’t think you want to do that. You like having thousands of adoring troops at your beck and call.
You like wearing stars on your collar. But if the Sahiradin are the threat you say they are, prove it. Resign and join the EDF. Become a soldier in someone else’s army. Be a mercenary!”

  “Nice try, Attika. Very nice. You think I’ll hand those men and women over to some Septemberist weasel you’ll install as my replacement? I don’t think so. You’d have them working in the fields picking corn or manning soup kitchens within a week.”

  “Well, we certainly don’t need them patrolling the borders or rattling sabers at our neighbors. What nation is threatening to invade us? We don’t have anything worth taking!”

  Attika paused a moment and leaned back in her chair. “Actually, I’m glad you came here today. I had planned on waiting to tell you this, but perhaps it’s better to get it out in the open. Congress has decided to cut all funding for the production of munitions, guns, and antiballistic shields. Fuel will be closely rationed. The people of the Federated States of America can no longer afford to pay for your toys, Brandt. That means whatever guns, swords, bullets, and shields you’ve got on hand now is all you’ll get for a very long time to come. And of course, this applies to General Vessey and First Army as well.” She paused and calmly regarded Logan’s stunned expression before continuing. “So your soldiers may not be working soup kitchens, but I promise you they won’t be going on any more raids against the Sahiradin, either.”

  Logan took a moment to process what Attika had said. “So that’s how you’re doing it. That’s how you’re gaining control over the military. Now that we’ve captured Linsky and destroyed Third Army, you’re going to starve us until we’re too weak to pose a threat to you or your pet Congress.”

  “It’s better that the army starves than the people,” said Attika, her eyes as hard as stone. “It’s not so much fun being the head of an army with no bullets for guns and no fuel for tanks, is it Brandt?”

  “If you think the army is such a waste, why don’t you just disband it? Tell the soldiers to turn in their guns and uniforms and return to whatever place they call home. Turn national security over to your loyal Conguards.”

  “That’s the plan, Brandt,” said Attika as she laced her fingers together. “But it must be done slowly. Congress doesn’t want to see thousands of angry, unemployed soldiers protesting in the streets. It’s much better to slowly drain the army of the tools of war. Winnow away its strength until it’s so weak it couldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “You’re a damn fool, Attika,” said Logan grimly. “This is suicide. You’ve never faced the Sahiradin. They loath us. If the Lycians are defeated, the Sahiradin will come to Earth and slaughter us all, every man, woman, and child. That will end your little dictatorship real quick.”

  Hearing the word dictatorship applied to her sent Attika into a rage.

  “Get out of my office, Brandt!” she shouted, pointing toward the door. “Get out now!”

  Logan scoffed. “With pleasure. But when this little fantasy nation of yours comes crashing down around you, don’t look to me for help. You’ll get none.”

  He turned and walked swiftly toward the door, pulled it open and walked through. But before the door closed behind him, he heard Attika’s voice calling from behind.

  “Congress demands your resignation, Brandt!” she shouted. “We don’t need you anymore, soldier boy! You hear me? We don’t need you!”

  Chapter 8

  To Permidian’s depths with the Brevian’s expediency and the Grenn’s humming. The quixotic Rahani and fish-herding Cistacians can go too! They all find excuses for skirting the demands of the Law. The Law requires sacrifice and forbearance and they lack the discipline to comply. They amend their values to suit their desires. They forget that the Law emerged out of the chaos following the Upheaval when the red-eyed Geth destroyed the foundations of civilization. Adherence to its just tenants was the anchor to which later generations tied themselves, allowing them to restore that which had been lost.

  - Bara Visch, Third Warden of the Citadel to Queen Souk.

  “We have arrived, Fleet Commander Taqir,” said a Sahiradin to an older warrior dressed in the black and red tunic of a senior officer. A thin metal bar with tiny precious stones arranged in rows to indicate the seated officer’s high rank was attached to his uniform just above the right breast.

  Fleet Commander Taqir ran his finger along his jawline then pointed toward the view screen before him. “What is the status of the rest of the fleet, D’Sur?” he asked in an uncommonly deep voice.

  “All ships report having arrived,” repeated D’Sur, “but there is considerable distance between some elements of the fleet. We will require more time than anticipated to bring it together.”

  Taqir frowned upon hearing this. He’d hoped the many ships of his armada would arrive close together, but given the size of the vast Sahiradin fleet, he’d been forced to send them through the khâl in five separate groups. Doing so had successfully delivered the fleet to the far outskirts of the Lativian System but had dispersed them widely.

  “Any signs of the enemy?”

  “No, Fleet Commander Taqir. We are just outside the Lativian System’s heliosphere, well beyond the reach of their automated defenses.”

  “Very well. Order all ships to converge at the system’s outer ring of debris. From there, we will make for the planet Agurru.”

  “Yes, Fleet Commander!”

  D’Sur spun around and issued orders. “All ships make way for the outer ring. Converge there on Retribution!”

  The massive battleship, Retribution, one of the many ships recently constructed in the secret shipyards of the Epurian Nebula, turned her prow toward the center of the system. The twelve nearby vessels which had traveled through the khâl with her fell into formation around the Sahiradin flagship and made way for the system’s outer ring.

  “Does the enemy know we’ve arrived?” asked Taqir.

  “We are noting signal traffic coming from their sentinel drones. They know we are here.”

  “Threat level?”

  “Low, Fleet Commander. Retribution and her escort are far too powerful for them. And once our fleet has assembled, they will be a mere nuisance, target practice for our weapons officers.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Message from Sahir!” shouted an officer stationed at a nearby console.

  “Read it,” ordered Taqir, leaning slightly forward in his seat.

  “Well done on your successful arrival in the enemy system. Engage against the Separatists at every opportunity. Destroy the enemy target at all costs. Restore the Law to this system. These orders are final and irrevocable.”

  Taqir grunted upon hearing the last few words. The Kisch was nervous. The members of the warrior council worried that the wayward generals of the far quadrants would seek to influence Taqir, or worse, that he might receive contrary orders to abandon the mission and return to Sahir. The Kisch had waited too long to settle on this plan to attack the planet Agurru and were now desperate. Of course, they had been somewhat constrained by circumstances. Secret construction of the many ships in Taqir’s fleet had taken longer than anticipated, and convincing Khadiem to use her control over the last remaining Kaiytáva to deploy the khâl beyond the edge of the Lativian System had heightened tensions with her for she had expressed considerable doubt as to the wisdom of the plan of attack.

  Fleet Commander Taqir laughed quietly to himself as he thought about the Kisch’s dilemma. The fools had hoped to introduce new constraints on the power of the throne before allowing Khadiem to sit upon it, but she had firmly rejected them all. She may be young, thought Taqir, but she was rightly suspicious of the Kisch’s intentions. And of course time was on her side. Though strangely delayed, her cycle was now approaching. The old warriors of the Kisch would never risk letting it begin without naming her Queen and offering her a list of suitable consorts with whom to mate. Khadiem had been conceived using unnatural processes, and they would want to temper her wildness with a mate who carries more desirable traits, certainly
someone who would cause her to produce less brutish warriors than her current brood, her so-called Murhatta. Taqir knew of the five or six names the Kisch would include on the list of proffered suitors, every one of them a strong adherent to traditional ways. There was even speculation that Tahan Sahuuk, leader of the Kisch, would submit his own name, though Taqir doubted the old warrior would survive the coupling.

  Thinking once more of the message from Sahir, Taqir realized that, once made Queen under the Sacred Mountain, Khadiem could cancel the assault and recall the fleet. Of course, if Taqir received such an order, he would comply. However, if he never received that command and he successfully destroyed his target on Agurru, he would be regarded by all as a warrior of exceeding ability, courage, and tenacity - a warrior worthy of a Queen’s affections. Now, all that remained was to ensure an order to withdraw did not reach him.

  “Confirm that all ships of the fleet have passed through the khâl,” he said.

  “All ships have arrived, Fleet Commander,” said an officer a moment later.

  “Good,” said Taqir as he leaned back in his chair and tightly gripped the ends of the armrest. “Weapons officer.”

  “Yes sir!”

  “Aft weapons array, target the khâl.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Did you not hear your order!” shouted Taqir as he leveled his pale blue eyes on the weapons officer to his right.

  “Yes sir!” said the weapons officer. He turned and began entering information into the Retribution’s targeting systems.

  “Sir, if I may,” said D’Sur. “If we destroy the khâl we will be unable to receive reinforcements, and communications beyond our fleet will be impossible.”

  “We have sufficient forces to achieve the objective, and as you know, these orders are final,” said Taqir. “There is no need for further communications.” Looking once more at the weapons officer, he said, “Have you targeted the khâl?”