Invasion (The K'Tai War Series Book 1)

by PP Corcoran

  “If the Claviger would take the advice of an old warrior?” intoned Harvik.

  “Of course, my lord, your advice is always welcome here,” assented the Claviger.

  Harvik composed his thoughts before speaking. Now was not the time to fight a battle he had already lost. The Claviger and that Kem Tak scum Neras had planned this out well before his and Kara’s arrival. “There are reports of sightings of human regular troops, not the local militia forces, having been seen escaping toward the mountains and forests. Would it not be prudent for Lady Kara to retain sufficient resources in the event these troops manage to coalesce into a fighting force?” Harvik saw that the Claviger was not buying his argument, so he upped the ante. “If they were to cause disruption to Redlazore mining or processing which, as you are keenly aware, is something the Gerent, and the Devisee, are taking a personal interest in, then…” Harvik intentionally left his sentence unfinished. The older K’Tai saw that at the mention of the Devisee, the Claviger looked, well, if not worried, then concerned. The Devisee was not known for taking a subordinate’s failure well.

  The Claviger fixed his eyes on Lord Harvik. This old man is no fool, he knows how the game is played, he thought. Slapping his open palms on his thighs, he stood, coming down the steps of the dais and nimbly skirting around the pool of human blood until he was standing beside Harvik. “A point well made, my lord. A point well made. I was unaware of these so-called sightings. A breakdown in communications which is easily rectified. Commander Neras.”

  “Yes, Claviger?” replied the Kem Tak officer.

  “I want a Kem Tak officer appointed with immediate effect to the personal staff of Lord Harvik and Lady Kara to act as our Liaison Officer. They will attend every staff briefing and have access to all communications and intelligence.” The Claviger gave Harvik an innocent look as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “With your permission, of course, my lord, and yours too, my lady.”

  The Claviger had outmaneuvered them, so, both Harvik and Kara nodded reluctantly. A huge beaming smile filled the Claviger’s face. “Ah, I’m glad that is sorted, then. As for the defense of the Redlazore mines and processing plants, why don’t we leave that in the protective hands of the Black Legion for the moment? As you pointed out, Lord Harvik, it would not please the Devisee or the Gerent if these operations were compromised.”

  Kara glanced across at the inscrutable face of Harvik as, for not the first time this day, she struggled to control her anger. Surely Harvik knew that the Claviger and the Kem Tak had just made herself and the Black Legion the scapegoats if production of Redlazore was hindered in any way? It took her a moment to realize the Claviger was still talking.

  “Regarding troop levels, my lady. As the Kem Tak are no longer responsible for the mines or the processing plants they would only require… Commander?”

  “A quarter of the legion’s strength will suffice for the moment.” Neras smiled pleasantly at Kara. “After all, there are only so many gates to guard and latrines to dig.”

  Harvik’s grip on her elbow became vice-like, yet, she greeted the pain as an old friend provided it stopped her from challenging the Kem Tak officer there and then to a duel.

  “If that is all, Claviger, then I really must return to my ship,” said Harvik, not a trace of resentment or anger in his voice.

  “Of course, my lord. And I thank you for your time. I’m sure our weekly briefings will bring us closer together.”

  A frown formed, then vanished, on Harvik’s forehead. Weekly briefings? It was the first he had heard about this. It appeared the Claviger was intent on being involved in the minutiae of every decision Harvik and the fleet made. Undoubtedly, he would compare what the Kem Tak Liaison Officers who would now be present to hear what Harvik and Kara discussed in their staff meetings heard, with what Harvik and Kara told the Claviger in person. This Claviger is not a man to be underestimated, or trusted, thought Harvik.

  “I look forward to it, Claviger.” With a curt nod Harvik spun around, taking Kara with him as he headed out of the hall. Passing through the wide doors, the two K’Tai, closely followed by their respective retinues, made their way to Harvik’s waiting shuttle. Not a single word was spoken during the short journey. Upon reaching the bottom of the shuttle’s steps Harvik leaned in as if to hug Kara affectionately. As he did so he said in a low whisper, “Be careful, Kara. Say nothing, nor record anything that may be used against you. No matter how innocent it may appear at the time.”

  Pressing her mouth to his ear, Kara replied, “And you, old friend. This Claviger and his Kem Tak lackey have no honor.”

  Releasing each other, Harvik mounted the steps without a rearward glance. As soon as he was aboard, the hatch secured and the engines began spooling up. Kara turned her back on the shuttle and headed for the armored flitter that would return her to her own headquarters. Her mind churned with thoughts of how she was going to keep herself and the Black Legion from becoming pawns in the Claviger and his Kem Tak accomplices’ political game.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Long Walk

  DAY TWO

  Jodee and Chris had slept a fitful night’s sleep, more a few snatched minutes here and there, if the truth be told. Jodee had argued that they should press on as darkness had fallen and visibility in the thick deciduous forest had dropped to virtually zero. Even when the twin moons had risen, their scarce reflected light had made going treacherous enough that when Jodee’s foot had gone down some small animal’s burrow hole, causing it to twist painfully and forcing her to stop, she wished that she had listened to Chris.

  The pain in her left ankle had subsided somewhat and, with the rising sun banishing the darkness, she steeled herself for a long days walking while cursing her own stupidity. Glancing across at the still sleeping Chris, hood drawn tightly around his face to keep out the chill and hands shoved under his armpits, she decided to give him an extra couple of minutes before waking him. Activating her wrist comm, she selected the integrated mapping system, which dutifully brought up a detailed map of the area immediately surrounding her current location. A small frown creased her forehead as, on the hovering map projected above her wrist comm, all she could identify was forest. Zooming out only showed her more forest. Zooming out again, she saw the Calley Mine and the hard-top road which led back toward the city of Gemini. Dotted here and there in some clear, unforested patches were the odd outlines of farms. With the touch of another control their route from the day before was superimposed on the floating image, a route which zigzagged around the farms and more demanding terrain features. Jodee highlighted their current location and the Calley Mine; dutifully the smart machine drew a line directly between the two locations and calculated the distance between the two. Fifteen kilometers. A curse that would have petrified her parents if they had heard it passed half whispered over her lips. Surely, we’ve come further than that, thought Jodee. With the tip of her index finger, Jodee traced the route that she and Chris had taken the day before during their frantic escape from the mining complex. Dutifully the machine recalculated and a new figure appeared on the image. Thirty-seven kilometers. Avoiding the farms and roads which crisscrossed the ground between the edge of the forest and the mine had cost them a lot of time, but Mom’s instructions had been explicit. Avoid all contact. Jodee’s lips pursed and she unconsciously chewed her lower lip as she once more expanded the map until eventually it showed the small blinking blue dot of their destination. The cabin. Already knowing that she wasn’t going to like the answer, she set the machine to calculating the distance remaining. The number did not disappoint her. 147 kilometers. Jodee continued to look unseeing at the map and its foreboding number, her brain working the problem that she and Chris faced. 147 kilometers to travel… in a direct line. Yesterday we made fifteen kilometers. That makes… at least another ten days of walking and with the detours to avoid farms, obstacles… Oh my God… It’s damn near impossible! Thought Jodee,

  They had no provisions, no weapons
and it was quite possible that the soldiers from the mine were still looking for them. Jodee continued to stare at the map as the first seed of a plan formed in her mind. A half-remembered lesson from school taught by the exceedingly boring Mr. Naismith, the natural sciences teacher, something about how the farmers would bring their livestock down from the high pastures of the Scraggy Mountains before the onset of winter to more fertile and accessible pastures lower down the mountain range. However, colony law mandated that each of these buildings must be outfitted with an emergency pack which any unwary traveler could use if they found themselves stranded in the mountains in the depths of winter until Search and Rescue could reach them. The buildings higher up in the mountains were simply closed for the winter, basically left as they were. And that meant supplies. Food, water and shelter. Jodee excitedly panned the map across until it showed the steepening slopes of the Scraggy Mountains. Bingo! A single building with a white cross on a red background floating beside it, indicating the location of one of the safe havens. OK, it might not be winter, Jodee thought but, and this was a gamble but a reasoned one, these safe havens were only used infrequently by the farmers to come up from the plain to check on their wandering livestock, so the chances were that they would be unoccupied. Reviewing the map, Jodee put together a new route that strung together one haven after another until, finally, she could drop once more into the thick forest close to the cabin. According to the little machine the new proposed route worked out at 223 kilometers, further than making their way through the forest, but going through the forest was a non-starter if they could not find supplies while going up and around guaranteed supplies and, Jodee reasoned, once they were clear of the thick forest which thinned the higher up the Scraggy Mountains you went then, in theory at least, she and Chris should be able to cover the ground much quicker, meaning the longer route would be covered in the same amount of time or less.

  Jodee looked over at the still sleeping Chris. Time to wake up sleeping beauty and tell him of her plan.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The Farm

  DAY THREE

  It may not have been the most comfortable of places, but Jacob’s hill store was the only place that he felt was far enough off the beaten track that whoever it was that had bombed the crap out of Gemini City and killed his wife and son, before presumably blowing up the flitter that had held the Xians, would not come looking for them. Jacob had returned to his own house and loaded up on supplies of dry and vacuum-sealed food before high-tailing it up here.

  Lin, the girl, and Shen, the boy, had said hardly a word between them since Jacob had scooped them out of the roadside culvert he had found them cowering in. All thoughts of his planned revenge on those responsible for his family’s murder were replaced by the more pressing need to care for the two children that those same individuals had so callously made orphans.

  Jacob heard two pairs of feet padding slowly toward where he sat perched on a rickety stool, tri-barrel laid across his knees as he kept watch on the rough, overgrown trail that led up from the logging road to the hill store. Jacob had hardly moved from this spot since they had arrived. He ate his meals on the stool. Sleep, when it came fleetingly to him, was on the stool. Truth be told, the only time he really left his post was to cook for himself and the children and to ensure the kids had gone to bed at night. It had been three long days now since the mad scramble to fill the flitter with as much food and supplies as it would carry. Lin and Shen had sat silently in their seats, watching him go back and forward with the supplies, muttering to himself as he tried to prioritize what he should take and what he should leave behind, constantly scanning the sky fearing that the fate that had befallen the Xians and the Larimers would be visited on his farm next. When he had filled the flitter to bursting, he had driven like a demon, disregarding the posted speed limits as he raced for the perceived safety of the mountains. The roads he had traveled along were never busy at the best of times; now, though, they were deserted. Jacob’s farm was one of the larger ones on this side of Gemini City: nowhere near as large as the vast, corporation-owned farms that had been established on the far side of the Scraggy Mountains on the Caramon Plain, but nevertheless Jacob owned a substantial plot that, with the aid of modern agricultural machinery, could be run with minimal human input. Hence the lack of traffic, the only exceptions being the automated heavy lift flitters that carried produce from the corporation farms to the hungry mouths in the city or the equally large logging vehicles that helped supply the materials to build the ever-expanding city. Jacob had given them incredulous looks as they passed him on the road; their automated systems had no regard for the fighting raging around their destinations. The simple computer brains that controlled them had instructed them to carry their loads to their assigned destinations and that was exactly what they were going to do.

  The footsteps came to a hesitant halt. Urgent, argumentative whispering before a single set of feet covered the last few steps to stop directly behind him. “Jacob?” called the small, slightly squeaky voice of Lin. It became readily apparent to Jacob that of the twins, Lin was the more forward.

  “Yes, Lin,” replied Jacob softly. The children were both still quite skittish around him, understandably in Jacob’s opinion. Their quiet family life had been torn asunder by violence, and they had been removed from the only home they had ever known by a man who was only a passing stranger to them. A man who had brought them to a secluded building without any of the comforts they were used to. Jacob had forced himself to walk on eggshells around them, trying as best he could to shield them from the ugly fact that they would never see their parents again. Now, though, it appeared that the twins wanted answers, and Jacob steeled himself for the inevitable awkward questions.

  Before the child could ask her question, a sound like distant thunder reached them from further down the hill. Jacob was on his feet, tri-barrel in hand in an instant, ears straining hard to pinpoint the sound. A second, more tearing, ripping sound came from the same direction. Jacob might not have been familiar with all the sounds of war, but he did recognize automatic weapons fire when he heard it. Another burst of weapons fire, closer this time. Spinning on his heel, he barely paused as he scooped up Lin in one arm, tri-barrel in the other, and ran for the flitter that he had concealed in the feed store. Shen stood stock still, mouth working, though no words came from his suddenly dry throat. Jacob didn’t slow his pace as he went past the boy, lifting him roughly by back of his shirt and hooking him under his arm. Time was short and whoever was doing the shooting was getting closer.

  #

  Jodee and Chris were making good time. They were making for what Jodee’s wrist comm had told them was a small cluster of farm buildings which lay just at the edge of the forest and was marked on the map as holding an emergency supply pack. Both she and Chris had had no solid food since breakfast on the morning of the attack. Chris had suggested that they construct some crude small animal traps; they had come across plenty of game trails on their trek through the forest and it was certainly an option. Dad had shown them how to make traps from nothing more than what the forest provided. Jodee, however, had insisted that they push on. Constructing the traps, setting them, and then awaiting some poor animal to fall afoul of one would take time, time that Jodee was unwilling to waste. Mom or dad, possibly both, would be waiting for them at the cabin and she was in a hurry to be reunited with her parents.

  At the first crack of firing they both froze. The sound echoed off the tall trees, making it hard to narrow down the source. A crashing to their left as a figure burst through the thick undergrowth, falling to the ground as their foot caught on an unseen branch, made that point moot. Jodee barely registered the fact that the form was human when a second, larger figure, this one not human, came through the hole in the undergrowth made by the first man. Chris flung himself bodily sideways, taking Jodee to the ground, and not a second too soon, as the alien let loose a burst of fire from his weapon in the kids’ direction which tore through
the air where they had been standing a heartbeat before.

  Unfortunately, the alien’s distraction at the sight of two more humans instead of the lone militiaman he had been chasing sealed his fate. Rolling on to his back, the militiaman who had been his prey let loose with the machine pistol in his outstretched arm. The Bratatat! of the human’s discharging weapon was deafening. At less than three meters, the Teflon-coated ten-millimeter rounds, traveling at a hair below 4000 kilometers per hour, punched through the K’Tai’s body armor as if it was paper, expending most of their kinetic energy within the alien’s body, turning internal organs to pulp, shattering bone, fragments of which cut and chewed their way through the body, only adding to the machine pistol’s swathe of destruction.

  The K’Tai fell forward. Even in death his own momentum carried him forward until, like one of the massive forest trees surrounding him, he began an inexorable fall. The bayonet on the end of his oversized rifle arced downward. The injured human lying at his feet had no chance of escape. The bayonet pierced his chest. A sharp, short scream. The K’Tai’s considerable weight fell atop the rifle, pushing the blade down through the stricken man until it came out of his back and entered the soft earth below him. Silence.

  For what seemed an age but was probably only a couple of seconds, Jodee and Chris lay in a tangled heap, disoriented by the sudden, unexpected violence they had witnessed.

  “We need to get out of here,” Jodee said in a soft, halting voice.