The Renegade

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The Renegade Page 10

by P. M. Johnson


  “While I am not at liberty to discuss military matters with you, I am very interested in hearing where you learned this from.”

  Veiju laughed. “You have the audacity to ask me how I know this! You, the one who has dug a thousand tunnels under the walls of Alliance confidentiality now ask me how I know?” He shook his head several times. “I know because the Dewar, the chancellor’s inner circle, and all who serve them are so thoroughly compromised that they will happily share the Alliance’s most treasured secrets for a handful of denosh. You and your clever little Brevian minions have made it so. But have no fear of the Sahiradin, Ambassador Barka. I have the solution.”

  “The solution? What might that be? Some new Dhurlan weapon or gadget, perhaps?”

  “Troops, Ambassador Thought Bender. Thousands and thousands of troops. And they can be yours, for a price.”

  “How have you come by these troops?” asked Barka warily. “The Visk are ill-suited for combat, all the galaxy knows that.”

  “The Visk are too enlightened for such unprofitable and absurd activities as physical combat,” countered Veiju, dismissively. “But allow me to provide you with a demonstration of the product I have on offer.”

  The image of Veiju was replaced by that of a male figure dressed in red and black. On his chest was a breastplate. On his head was a black helmet with a dark visor that obscured his face. The view expanded to reveal another similarly dressed male figure. They faced each other. The first figure drew a sword from over his shoulder and touched the bracer on his left forearm to create a semi-transparent circular force shield on his arm. The second figure produced a rod which expanded into a sharp-tipped staff.

  The two squared off against each other. The warrior with the sword leaped forward, forcing his opponent to step backward, though the aggressor received a strike on the side of his head from the other’s staff. As the staff came into contact, it emitted a jolt of red-hued energy that sent the aggressor stumbling sideways. He quickly recovered and drove the tip of his sword forward, forcing the second warrior to block it with his staff. This created a momentary opening for the first warrior, who spun on the ball of his right foot and drove the left into his opponent’s chest, sending him tumbling backward.

  The display of the two warriors expanded to reveal a handful of other identically clad figures sparring against each other. The view widened even more to show additional such figures. On it expanded until Pendu Barka was able to see hundreds of warriors battling each other inside a large subterranean space. Intrigued, Barka leaned forward to take in as much detail as possible. The warriors were clearly not Visk, but neither were they Tullan or any other Lycian species.

  “Who are these warriors?” asked Barka. “By their size and appearance, they seem to be Humani. Have you been recruiting warriors from Earth?”

  The scene of sparring warriors was replaced by the image of Veiju Dhurlan. “Don’t be absurd!” he snapped. “The Humani could never perform at the level of the Dhurlan Syndicate’s Chacksu warriors.”

  “Ah, ‘Chacksu’ warriors,” said the Brevian. “The Perfect warrior. I must say what I just witnessed was impressive, though I would not call them perfect. Once again I ask you, who are these warriors? Or should I ask what are they? If you did not recruit Humani, you must have manufactured your Chacksu. And judging from their behavior, I wonder if you have violated the Kathorian Edict’s prohibition against combining biology with machinery.”

  “You need not concern yourself with any violations of that absurd limitation on technology,” said Veiju with a wave of his hand. “The Dhurlan warriors do not rely on any organic materials.”

  “But their movements are so fluid, their decision making so precise,” said Barka. “These are not in any way like the battle droids produced by other Visk Syndicates. No machine can perform like this.”

  “They do not violate the Edict, Barka!” snapped Veiju. “Now, my question for you is whether Chancellor Penawah and the Dewar are interested in hiring these warriors? The Sahiradin fleet is approaching Agurru; you have an immediate need for high quality ground troops. What shall it be?”

  Barka considered the number and composition of warriors at the Alliance’s disposal. They consisted mostly of Tullans, though there were some Rahani and Brevians, but due to growing disenchantment in the Dewar there were far too few warriors at Penawah’s disposal. They would not withstand an assault on Agurru, certainly not on the scale the Sahiradin fleet appeared to be capable of. Of course, neither the chancellor nor the Dewar would agree to expending funds on untested manufactured Dhurlan warriors, not without knowing their origins and performance parameters. The memory of the debacle on the planet Irsk was still too fresh in the minds of many. Tens of thousands of innocents had been slaughtered on that planet by malfunctioning Visk battle droids boasting combined organic and tetraponic brains that approached true artificial intelligence on par with the Lycians themselves. The result was the Kathorian Edict, a prohibition against combining mechanical and organic materials to create intelligent machines. Of course, artificial intelligence existed in many other places throughout the Trade Federation in purely inorganic systems, that is to say in computers. But the Dewar had no fear of them because they could not walk or talk, nor could they wield a sword or particle gun.

  “What you ask for I cannot give, Veiju Dhurlan. I lack the authority to enter into negotiations with your syndicate, not without the express approval of the chancellor. Naturally, any agreement would need to be ratified by the Dewar as well.”

  “The Sahiradin are coming to Agurru, Pendu Barka,” hissed Veiju. “I offer the Trade Federation salvation. I can have three hundred thousand Chacksu ready by the time the Sahiradin reach the planet. In time, I will have many more - millions. All of them fearless and absolutely loyal to the Alliance. They will break the Sahiradin and drive them back into their hole under the Sacred Mountain. Go and get the chancellor’s permission if you must. Lick the boots of the Dewar if need be. But know this, the Dhurlan will not fall to the Sahiradin hordes. We have the means to carry on alone if we must.”

  Veiju ended the transmission, leaving Pendu Barka to contemplate the Visk’s offer in silence. If what Veiju said was true, this would change everything. But Veiju would want more than just money. He would want much more. The question was whether the chancellor would be willing to give it.

  Chapter 12

  The Great Betrayal broke the old lines of authority. Once strong institutions have been swept away. Nothing of the prior order remains. This presents a unique danger to the Sahiradin. We will not survive as a species of honor and purpose if we have no universal code to live by, a set of enduring principles to act as the boundary between what is permissible and what is not. The Sahiradin warrior is fierce, deadly, and powerful; he can only be constrained by duty and service to something higher than himself. Let us therefore reaffirm our commitment to the Law, something ancient, honorable, and enduring. The Alamani betrayed its principles. We will not!

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

  The Queen has passed through the veil, yet the spirit of the Law lives on in the breast of a new Champion. All hail the new Queen!

  How Khadiem longed to hear those words spoken in her presence. How infuriating was the Kisch’s delay in performing the Queen’s Ascension Ceremony so she could take her rightful place on the throne beneath the Sacred Mountain. Queen Pashira, her detestable mother, was dead. She had been murdered by her own Warden of the Citadel, the cowardly Bakaram Uthu Farankar, who, after committing the heinous deed, fled Sahir. Despite her loathing for her mother, the thought of her death by assassination sent a wave of anger coursing through Khadiem’s body. How could Bakaram have performed such a monstrous act? It was unthinkable. No Sahiradin had ever before attempted to commit regicide because for the Sahiradin, regicide was genocide.

  Pashira’s death had sent shockwaves through Sahiradin-held space, the so-called Reclaimed Worlds. She had just produced the tiny
embryonic sacks of a new generation of Sahiradin warriors, as well as several hundred thousand drones and more than three hundred Karazan warrior-priestesses. After the birthing, Pashira had appeared before the Kisch as was customary. The Kisch declared her to be perfectly healthy, strong, and vigorous. All agreed that her reign would continue. And although Khadiem maintained her distance and refused to obey Pashira’s demand to hand over the Kaiytávae which she had won at the Battle of Halduan, there was no doubt among the Sahiradin that mother and daughter would soon join forces to finally overcome the Lycian Separatists. Order would be restored, and the true meaning of the Law would be enforced in every corner of the galaxy.

  But that vision of unity was shattered soon after Pashira’s appearance before the Kisch. The sun had not risen ten times over the Sacred Mountain before she fell to the assassin’s blade. Faced with this unprecedented act, rival generals bickered with the Kisch over how to proceed. Some called for the immediate installment of Khadiem onto the throne. But when the investigation into the assassination revealed no collusion with the Lycians, all eyes turned toward Khadiem. Some of the bolder members of the Kisch even openly accused her of having had a hand in the act. With anger and confusion at unprecedented levels, it was not long before the roots of factionalism had penetrated deep into the soil of Sahiradin society, throwing it out of balance. The threat of bloody internal conflict, even civil war, steadily grew.

  Khadiem took a deep breath and slowly exhaled in order to calm herself. She was standing atop the high battlements guarding the entrance to the ancient mountain fortress of Gôhl Borum. All around her, short black-cloaked drones scurried about, clicking and chirping in their strange language as they worked to repair the stone barriers and metal reinforcements which had not been tended to for many generations. Indeed, the sound of warrior boots striking the stone floors of Gôhl Borum had not been heard since the earliest days of the Great Betrayal when Queen Souk first raised the Sahiradin banner against her deceitful Alamani masters.

  Above Khadiem’s head, the red light of a shield dome blocked a portion of the intense solar rays that rendered the planet, Jhunta, a near complete desert. She raised a hand to her brow to shield her pale blue eyes and gazed upon the barren, rocky terrain all around. Having abandoned the sunless rogue planet where her mother had banished her and her offspring, Khadiem had come to this dusty world because of its storied role as an ancient Sahiradin stronghold and its proximity to Sahir. She did not want to be too far away from the seat of power when the Kisch finally came to the inevitable conclusion that as the only living fertile female of the species, she must be recognized as Queen.

  She glanced down as her little drones bustled around her like insects going about their tasks without need of instruction. Though drones were quite common among the Sahiradin, typically comprising the majority of each new generation, they were unlike their sibling Sahiradin warriors and Karazan in every conceivable way. They were highly instinctual and relied on a simple language of monosyllabic words, clicks, and gestures to get their work done. And unlike their brothers and sisters, they did not regard their Queen with the same combination of fear and love. Of course, they followed her instructions and respected her position, but they never bowed or avoided her gaze. Likewise, no Queen, Karazan, or warrior had ever given a drone a moment’s consideration, despite the fact that these tireless creatures constructed their dwellings, grew and collected their food, cared for each Queen’s offspring, and performed myriad other tasks necessary for the survival of the species.

  A group of ten drones emerged from a small maintenance tunnel to Khadiem’s right. They went around her like a stream flowing around a large stone, taking no notice of her as they went about the many tasks necessary to restore the old stronghold’s ramparts. Similar work was being done by other drones throughout Gôhl Borum. And although teams of Myr, Tullans, and Visk, all of whom had been impressed into service by Khadiem’s warriors during what could only be described as raids on the Reclaimed Worlds, performed the tasks of a more technical nature, the drones made the old fortress habitable. They repaired tunnel walls, restored air filtration systems and water pumps, cleared storage facilities and docking bays of debris, and reinforced crumbling supports. Of course the Kisch protested against Khadiem’s labor raids on the Reclaimed Worlds, but they realized she required their services to survive. It was the price to be paid for keeping the smoldering tensions of the long interregnum from exploding into civil war.

  A warrior dressed in black stepped onto the high rampart where Khadiem stood. He positioned himself three steps away from her, touched his breast with his hand, and lowered his head.

  “What news, Kurak?” she asked.

  “The Kisch will soon respond to our latest demand to perform the Ascension Ceremony.”

  Khadiem scowled. “I am weary of this foolish dance, but let us hope wiser heads will prevail this time. What is the status of our fleet?”

  Our ships are patrolling the system to ensure your safety, but they are in need of refitting and repairs. Many still bear the marks of the Battle of Halduan.”

  “Marks they can be proud of,” replied Khadiem. “But we must ensure they are in top condition. Send them to the Epurian Nebula for repairs, but only a few at a time. We cannot risk sending too many or the Kisch may be emboldened to try and seize our fleet.”

  “It will be done,” said Kurak.

  “And what of our battleship?”

  “Havoc reports the destruction of another Le’iet light cruiser and three Separatist cargo vessels under its protection.” Kurak risked a quick look into Khadiem’s eyes and grinned. “The Lycians are squirming with anxiety; they fear the sting of a Sahiradin battleship equipped with a Kaiytáva.”

  Khadiem’s eyes glinted with pleasure. “Excellent.”

  “These raids are striking terror into the hearts of the Lycians,” continued Kurak. “The knowledge that we possess the last remaining Kaiytáva and are using it without hesitation greatly disturbs the Dewar. Chancellor Penawah has ordered her fleet to take stronger action. They recently struck a number of our front line bases, but without the codes to our system of khâls, they are limited in their reach. Interestingly, a number of Humani have joined their raids, including Logan Brandt. Though they are not a threat, reports indicate the Humani have demonstrated considerable discipline and skill in battle.”

  Khadiem placed a hand on the stone parapet and looked out over the rocky landscape. “That may be, but the Humani are too few to have an impact. And though I would gladly cut the repulsive Navigator’s throat if given the opportunity, without the Kaiytáva he is no different than any other Humani. The hour of his destruction rapidly approaches, as it does for all of the whelp descendants of the accursed Alamani.” She slowly strode along the parapet, looking approvingly upon the rapid progress her drones were making to repair the long neglected fortress. It had been nothing more than a ruin when they arrived, but now it could withstand any assault, whether by the Lycians, the Kisch, or rogue general.

  “How do you think the Kisch will respond to our latest demand that they perform the Ascension Ceremony without conditions?” she asked.

  “I cannot say,” replied Kurak. “They still search the old texts for guidance, or so they say. There are no precedents, no protocols to follow. The death of Pashira continues to cause confusion.”

  “It is the manner of her death that muddles their minds, not the fact of it,” said Khadiem with a frown of disgust.

  “Yes. It has caused tensions within the Kisch, and I’m afraid many still suspect that you played a part in it.”

  Khadiem emitted a low growl and struck the parapet with her open palm.

  “The Kisch know that Bakaram came to us for protection, but they also know we refused and sent a cohort of Karazan to kill him, though the coward escaped. Surely they cannot believe I would have anything to do with such a monstrous act. Assassination is the way of the coward and the usurper. I’m am neither. There should be no doub
t of my right to rule!”

  Kurak lowered his eyes. “They can find no evidence of Lycian influence. Now they maintain that they must proceed with caution to ensure there can be no possibility of collusion between us and Bakaram.”

  “To the pits of Permidian with those old fools! How much more time do they need to calm their trembling hearts? The warriors from Pashira’s final birthing are already capable of lifting a sword. Soon their training will begin! The longer the Kisch delays in performing the Ascension Ceremony, the deeper will be the animosity not just between my offspring and Pashira’s, but between the generations of her own direct line. The unthinkable is happening, Kurak. The Sahiradin are losing the cohesion our species depends on to survive.”

  “Time does not work in our favor,” agreed Kurak. “We need to integrate your warriors with all of Pashira’s seed; they must be of one mind and spirit, especially now that the Kisch has implemented its own strategy for defeating the Lycians.”

  “Yes, the impetuous assault on Agurru,” hissed Khadiem. “I would never have agreed to use Havoc to deploy the khâl on the far edge of that system if I had known they would reveal their intentions so soon. The Lycians have been alerted and already make preparations to defend the reactors there. Yet, as costly as the battle will no doubt be, the assault on Agurru may fit in with my larger designs. When I am finally made Queen, we must move quickly to consolidate power. The vines of legitimate authority have grown wild and will need to be pruned.”

  Khadiem breathed in deeply and closed her pale blue eyes. After a few heartbeats, she opened them again, and in a calmer tone asked, “Have they agreed to target the Humani world? Black Dagger has been destroyed.”

 

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